


Seems Like Years Since It's Been Clear

by maraanan



Series: self-indulgent modern au [1]
Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: (with emphasis on 'comedy' as in 'with a happy ending' instead of 'humorous' bc im not funny), Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Developing Relationship, M/M, Mutual Pining, Romantic Comedy, Single Parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-12-25
Packaged: 2018-06-07 03:26:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 73,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6783316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maraanan/pseuds/maraanan
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Xander tries really hard not to think about how nice his son's teacher's smile is, but ends up doing so anyway. Frequently.</p><p>(Modern AU, single parent/kindergarten teacher)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Xander's Just Trying His Best

**Author's Note:**

> V important: Laslow goes by Inigo in this fic. Because... there's really no reason for him to go by Laslow. "Laslow" is now just his somewhat self-insert OC when it's playtime and the kids want to pretend they're fighting dragons, or something. Same goes for Odin (and Selena, though she isn't a teacher). Oh, also, Laslow/Inigo's dad is Henry in this, for those who are curious. He'll be showing up briefly sometime later.
> 
> Warning for some (ridiculous) homophobia in some chapters.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [01/10/16]: ugh so ao3 fucked up and deleted the first chapter and this is a reupload sorry everyone

Like a responsible driver, Xander keeps his hands firmly on the wheel. Maybe a little too firmly. He drives, setting his narrowed eyes on the road, fists tightly clenched. It hurts a bit, but Xander can’t think about that right now, not when he's so angry.

He’s so mad, at this job, this company, his father. He’s so mad at himself, for being so spineless, following his father’s orders without question.

He takes a turn, and Siegbert’s kindergarten is in view. Right. He has to calm down. It won’t do good to show up at his son’s school with an angry face on. He’s not like his own father, he tells himself. He doesn’t want to scare his son.

Xander parks his car in the kindergarten’s parking lot. Before he gets out of the car, he stays in his seat for a few more moments, and closes his eyes. Xander inhales deeply, and exhales.

He opens the door, gets out, closes the door, then cringes at the loud sound made from how hard he slammed it. He’s still angry, but for now, he has to keep it in him, at least for a while. He takes in one more deep breath before walking into the school building.

He finds Siegbert in the waiting area with the other children waiting for their parents. Something pulls at his heart when he saw his son sitting alone, away from his classmates, with a picture book in his lap, silently reading.

Xander walks over to his son, and kneels in front of him. “Siegbert,” he says.

Siegbert looks up from his picture book to see Xander. His face, a while ago so quiet and sullen, brightened up with a big smile at the sight of his dad. Siegbert puts his book aside and wraps his little arms around Xander’s neck in a hug. “Papa!”

Xander hugs him back. He chuckles lightly. “Mmm, hello to you to.” With his son, he almost forgets all the anger and resentment he had earlier.

Because of how busy he was with his job, Xander rarely ever picked Siegbert up from school. It was usually Corrin, who then brought him to her apartment until Xander could come and pick him up from there once he’d finished work. Since report card givings were today, Xander finally had an excuse to leave early. He could understand why Siegbert was so happy.

“Oh, hello there!”

Xander lets go of Siegbert and stands up to meet a blond, friendly-looking man. “You’re a parent, yeah? Here for your kid’s card?” the man asks.

Xander nods. He puts out his hand, and the man shakes it. “Xander. You’re a teacher?”

“Owain. Also, yep. I’m watching over the kids today, while they wait for their parents to come,” Owain said. “Who’s your kid? I’ll show you where to go.”

Behind Xander, clinging unto his pant leg, Siegbert says softly, “Hello, Mr. Owain.”

“Oh!” Owain bent down to Siegbert’s level, leaning his palms on his knees. “If it isn’t the little Siegbert!”

“My papa says I’ll grow as big as him when I’m older,” Siegbert says.

“Ha! Of course you will!” He ruffles Siegbert’s hair. “You did a good job helping with story time earlier, you know. The princess couldn’t have been saved without you!”

Siegbert gave him a small laugh. He seemed to like Owain.

Owain stands back up to talk to Xander. “Well, Mr. Inigo’s giving report cards in that room.” He points his thumb down the hallway, to the nearest door. “He’s Siegbert’s teacher, by the way. Siegbert can just stay here while you go get his card and talk to his teacher, if you’d like to.”

Xander nods again. “All right. Thank you.” He gives Siegbert a little nudge. “Say ‘thank you,’ Siegbert.”

“Thank you, Mr. Owain,” said Siegbert.

Xander leaves Siegbert with Owain and goes to the room he was told to enter, giving a little knock on the door before going in. Once he opens the door, he’s met with the sounds of someone with a shrill voice complaining. In front of the colorful classroom, at the teacher’s table, was a middle-aged woman almost yelling at who Xander assumed was Mr. Inigo.

“… What sorts of abomination are you teaching my poor, poor child? Teaching him all this… Homosexuality! You can’t force those things on those innocent children! Soon enough it will, it will be sex! And then drugs! And then my poor little baby will have his life ruined!”

Xander winces at the lady’s words. Inigo looks pained, and Xander understands. “Ma’am—Mrs. Bernard, please, all I did was read a story book about two male penguins adopting a baby penguin—“

“I’m giving you a warning right here, mister. You stop this foolishness at once. I want my son to learn letters and numbers, for pete’s sake, not politics! He is five years old!”

Inigo sighs. “Ma’am, please, if you would just listen to what I have to say…”

Xander wonders if he should leave and just come back in a few minutes, but it seems like the lady’s done and said everything she had to say. She turns, her heels click-clacking on the floor as she makes her way across the classroom, diamond earrings glinting and leather purse in hand. Xander moves aside to give her space through the door. He frowns as he closes the door after she leaves. What an unpleasant woman. He hopes her son isn’t as bad, and doesn’t give Siegbert a hard time.

From the front of the room, he hears a groan. Inigo has slumped in his seat and buried his face in his hands. Xander goes up to the teacher’s table. It was strange, seeing a teacher so dispirited in such a brightly colored room filled with the childish crayon drawings of kindergarteners. Xander clears his throat.

Inigo jumps in surprise, and lifts his head to see Xander. “Oh… Excuse me,” he says, apologetically. “I’m so sorry. You didn’t hear all of that, didn’t you?”

“Not all of it,” Xander answers honestly.

“I’m really sorry you had to hear that,” Inigo says.

“So am I. She was quite nasty.”

Inigo smiles weakly at that, at least. “Well, at least I know you won’t be yelling at me for trying to teach my students how to be proper human beings, as well?”

“Don’t worry,” said Xander, “I don’t vote Republican.”

Inigo laughs softly. He gestures to the chair right beside the table. “Please, take a seat.” Xander does. “So, you’re here for…?”

“Siegbert,” says Xander.

“Ah, yes. Mr. de Nohr.” Inigo digs through the pile of papers on his table, looking for Siegbert’s card. “Sorry, I haven’t seen you before. You weren’t at the parent-teacher interview, right?”

“I wasn’t,” Xander says. “I was too busy with work.”

Inigo nods. “I see.” He finds Siegbert’s card, and hands it over. “Here you go.”

Xander looked down at Siegbert’s report card. It was certainly impressive, especially for a five year-old. High marks in every area, all rows dotted with an “O” for “outstanding”, according to the legend on the card. Everything was great, really, and Xander felt a strong feeling of pride for his son, except…

“I assume you’re satisfied with your son’s academic performance,” Inigo says. “You should know that Siegbert is my star student. The very top of his class! I’m very proud of him. The only problem is—“

“Sociability,” Xander says, seeing the little “B” beside several of the items under “Personal and Social Development”. “B” for “beginning”, the lowest grade there was. “I noticed. He was alone outside, when I came. All the other kids were playing together.”

“Siegbert is a very intelligent boy,” Inigo says. “And he’s very kind and polite, and he’s never disobedient. He’s a sweetheart. He just needs to learn how to talk to the other kids. He also rarely speaks in class, and never raises his hand. He only talks when called on, though he always knows the right answer. Now, you must understand that there's nothing wrong with being shy, but Siegbert barely has friends, so I’ve been quite concerned for him.”

Xander sighs. “What do you propose we do, then?”

“Well,” Inigo starts, “this was actually something I wanted to talk to you about. You see, aside from being shy, I’ve noticed that Siegbert often seems… Sad. And, well, you know how little kids are, they’re noisy and energetic, right? So I asked him why he looked so sad one time, and he said that it’s because he ‘misses his papa’.”

Guilt settles into Xander’s stomach. Across the table, Inigo is looking at him with a face filled with both concern and expectancy, waiting for some explanation.

“I’m often busy at work,” Xander says.

“As you have said,” Inigo says, with a nod. “And you don’t get to spend much time wth your son, don’t you? Aside from bringing him to school, bringing him home, things like that.”

“No.”

“I see. What about Siegbert's mother? Is she also always busy?”

“She’s dead,” Xander answers, tone clipped.

Inigo blinks. “Oh,” he says. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Xander says. He thinks he knows where this conversation is going. “Just go on.”

“All right,” Inigo says. “Well, parental relationships play a big role in a child’s life. I really suggest that you at least try to find more time in your schedule to spend with Siegbert. Go to the park, something like that. It may really help Siegbert open up to others more.”

Something started to stir in Xander. “Are you implying,” he said, slowly, “that it’s all my fault?”

Inigo held up his hands placatingly. “Mr. De Nohr, please—“

“Do you even know what my job is like?” Xander demanded. Anger he had stored away earlier, bubbling up his chest once more. The same driving feeling, only directed at something else. “Forgive me for wanting to secure a future for my son.”

“That isn’t what I meant. Mr. De Nohr—“

“Don’t tell me how to raise my son,” Xander snaps, loudly.

Inigo stops. He stares at Xander for a moment, a blank expression on his face. “All right,” he says, in a neutral voice. “I apologize. I overstepped my boundaries. I won’t try to interfere any further.”

Shit. “Wait,” Xander says. He regrets what he’s done, once he realizes what he just said. He wished he hadn’t talked to Inigo like that, nor raised his voice. “Wait, I’m—I’m sorry. It’s just that I, I had a bad day, and I just snapped—“

“No,” Inigo cuts in, sharp, like a knife. “No, it’s fine. You’re right. I apologize.” He brings up a folder and opens it, writing something down.

Xander sighs, frustrated. “No, please, I’m the one who should be apologizing. It was extremely rude of me. You were only trying to help.”

“I said it was fine, Mr. De Nohr.” Inigo looks up and gives him a tight, forced smile. “Don’t worry about it. It’s fine.”

It doesn’t feel fine. Xander feels terrible.

“Well, I believe there’s nothing left for us to discuss,” Inigo says, going back to his papers. “Have a nice day, then, Mr. De Nohr.”

“You too,” Xander replies, weakly. He gets up from his chair, and leaves.

 

* * *

 

“For two, please,” Xander tells the waitress, and she nods and brings them inside to a small table.

It’s not an extremely fancy restaurant, since he doesn’t think neither Siegbert or the restaurant would appreciate him bringing his five year-old son to such a place. Still, it’s far from a McDonald’s, and is pretty expensive. Not that Xander’s wallet minds. Siegbert is given a high chair, the kids’ menu, some crayons, and the special paper placemat they have for children, the one with drawings you color in.

“Papa?” Siegbert asks, as he’s coloring an astronaut blue. “Why are we here, again?”

“Because you did very well in school, Siegbert,” Xander answers patiently, with a soft smile. “When you do a good job, it’s good to celebrate.”

“Oh,” Siegbert says. “So we’re here because of me?”

“Yes, Siegbert.”

“Oh. Okay.” He moves onto the pizza-shaped moon, starting with filling the pepperoni slices with red.

Xander thinks about his earlier meeting with Inigo. He still feels bad about what happened. He should really find a way to apologize to him properly. He also thinks about what Inigo told him, about parental relationships being an important factor in a child’s life. It was definitely an obvious statement, but it got Xander into thinking more about how his own relationship with his son was going. Inigo said Siegbert was often sad, because of that. It made Xander feel worse than anything.

“Siegbert,” he says. “Have you thought of what you wanted, yet?”

Siegbert stops coloring. “Um…” he says. “Can I have the pasta, Papa? The… The green-ish one.”

“You mean pesto?”

“Yes, Papa. Um, I think.”

Xander smiles again. “All right,” he says. “Siegbert?”

“Yes, Papa?”

"You know, because you have good grades, I can get you a gift, if you’d like,” Xander says. “Is there anything you want? Like a toy?”

Siegbert shakes his head. “No. But thank you, Papa.”

Xander watches his son go back to coloring. He didn’t want anything, really? other kids would be jumping at this chance, and asking for Nerf guns or Transformers or Barbies or... Whatever it is that kids like, these days. Siegbert has always had simple desires, despite how wealthy their family is. Most of his expensive toys and clothes were given to him, not asked for.

 

On the car ride going home, Siegbert falls asleep in his little booster seat. Xander looks fondly at his small snoring form through the mirror, briefly.

When they arrive at their house, Xander gently takes him into arms and carries him out of the car, careful not to wake him.

Their house is large and lonely, especially now since it was night and dark. The house wasn't his choice, and was a gift from his father when he got married, and he’d stuck with it ever since, afraid to offend him. If Xander had his choice, he would have chosen something smaller for sure. He only liked it when his siblings were over, and the many guest rooms were rid of their cold emptiness, replaced by the sound of familiar laughter.

Holding Siegbert close to his chest, he walks up the stairs as quietly as he can, and enters Siegbert's clean, organized room, not a story book or toy soldier out of line. Xander carefully lays Siegbert unto the bed, and pulls the blankets over him. Xander reaches out to smooth down Siegbert's hair, then leans forward to kiss him on the forehead.

His son made this house bearable. Since Siegbert’s mother died just after childbirth, their small family had grown smaller, the house lonelier. His son was not like other children; he was not rowdy, and he did not fill their house with shrieks and loud chortles while running around. Siegbert was quiet and reserved, and Xander loved him for who he was. He loved the warmth Siegbert brought with him, he loved seeing Siegbert's face light up when he read him bedtime stories.

Xander had his hand on the doorknob, ready to leave, when Siegbert spoke. “Papa?”

Xander turns to see Siegbert, bleary-eyed and barely awake. “Yes, Siegbert? What is it?”

“Can I tell you a secret?” Siegbert asks.

Xander moves to his bedside, kneeling. “Of course.”

“I would’ve liked your cooking better than eating in a restaurant,” Siegbert murmurs.

It's unexpected, and Xander is taken aback. “Oh,” is all he says. He takes note of this information and stores it away in his memory. Of course. He should’ve known better. He’s his father, after all; it's his job to know his son.

At the same time, it’s incredibly touching. Xander recalls that Inigo called Siegbert a sweetheart earlier, and he’s completely right.

Xander rubs his hand over Siegbert's arm. “I'm sorry. I’ll do better next time.”

“S’fine.” Siegbert yawns. “Love you, Papa. Good night.”

"I love you too.” Xander kisses him again, on the cheek. “Good night, Siegbert.”

He closes the door behind him as quietly as possible, not making a single sound.

 

* * *

 

The next morning, Xander finds that when he’s finished making breakfast and putting out the plates and glasses, Siegbert has not yet come down.

“Siegbert," Xander calls out. “Would you hurry up, please? I have a meeting today.” No answer. “Do you need any help?”

“No, thank you!”

Xander checks his watch. They’d need to leave in twenty minutes, if he wants to get to the office on time.

Siegbert comes running down the stairs. "I'm sorry,” he says.

“Careful, Siegbert. No running on the stairs, remember?” Xander says. “You could get hurt.”

Siegbert stops. "Oh, you're right.” He walks down to the table, and immediately starts digging into his omelette. He’s eating very quickly, cutting his food as fast as he can with his small hands. trying to finish his breakfast as soon as possible.

“You don't need to rush, son,” Xander tells him.

“But your—“ Siegbert says in between pieces of omelette, then remembers that it’s rude to talk with your mouth full. He chews, then swallows. “But your meeting, Papa.”

Xander wasn’t particularly religious, but he thanked whatever gods there were for being graced with such a considerate child. Still, he didn’t wish his son a stomachache. “It will feel bad later if you eat your food too fast.” He hands him his glass of orange juice. “Drink your juice.”

"Okay, Papa,” Siegbert says, and takes a sip from his drink. “Thank you.”

Later, once they’ve finished their breakfast and readied their things, Xander helps Siegbert into his booster seat, and drives him to school.

It’s a normal day, and there’s little traffic, which was good, of course, but while he drove Xander couldn’t get his talk with Inigo out of his head, the same as yesterday. Behind him, Siegbert was looking out the window and watching the buildings pass by, humming a little song he probably learned in school.

They drive up to the front of the kindergarten. Usually, Xander would just help Siegbert out of the car, kiss him goodbye, then drive off to work.

“Papa?” Siegbert asks, when Xander makes no motion to move.

But he can’t push Inigo’s words out of his thoughts. Surely, it wouldn’t hurt if he was a minute late to this meeting… Surely, this wouldn't take more than five minutes, anyway… After all, it’s for his son...

“Papa?” Siegbert asks again, a little worried now. “Are you okay?”

Xander turns to Siegbert and gives him a smile. “Hey," he says. “Why don’t I walk you to your classroom today?”

The bright grin Siegbert gave him back seemed to glow with happiness. “Really, Papa?” Then his expression deflated. “Oh, but what about your meeting?”

“It’s okay,” Xander says. “It won’t take long, anyway.”

Xander parks the car. After getting out, he helps Siegbert and carries him out of the car. He takes Siegbert’s Captain America school bag. “I’ll carry this for you,” he tells him, and takes Siegbert’s small, chubby hand in his own as they walk to his classroom.

“Thank you, Papa,” Siegbert says as they walk through the hallways, “for coming with me and carrying my bag.”

“Of course, Siegbert,” Xander says. “Is there anything interesting you’ll be doing in school today?”

“Mr. Inigo said he’s going to teach us how to make oh-ree-gah-mee,” Siegbert says, a bounce in his step. “He says he's going to teach us how to make a rabbit, then a flower, then a crane! Oh, it’s a kind of art, by the way, Papa, where you fold paper to make things. Just so you know.”

“Oh, really? I didn’t know that. It sounds very nice,” Xander said, in the most sincere voice, even though he already knew what origami was. “Will you show me what you’ve made later when I pick you up?”

“Sure, Papa!” Siegbert answers. “I’ll even ask Mr. Inigo if I can give one to you.”

“That’s very kind of you. Thank you, Siegbert,” Xander says. They arrive at Siegbert’s classroom. there are already a few children inside, and at the front, at the teacher's table, was Inigo.

More children were arriving, as well, and each of them came in accompanied by a parent. Xander's heart sank. Was Siegbert's mornings always like this, walking to class by himself and watching his classmates go in holding their parents' hands, with someone to kiss them goodbye?

“Oh, it’s such a surprise to see you here!”

Walking towards them was Inigo, looking like sunshine. Xander wasn’t expecting him to greet him so warmly, after how their meeting went. Inigo turns to Siegbert. “Good morning, Siegbert. My, you look happy today!”

Siegbert looks up to him, beaming. “Good morning to you, too, Mr. Inigo!” he says. He tugs on Xander’s hand. “This is my papa, Mr. Inigo. He’s very nice and strong. Look, he came with me today, even though he has a meeting!”

“Oh, really? That’s very nice!” Inigo says, looking up to Xander with a smile. Xander flushes and reverts his gaze to the ground in embarrassment.

“I’m going to go put my bag over there, Papa," Siegbert tells Xander, and he goes off, leaving his dad with Inigo.

“It really was so nice of you to come with him this morning,” Inigo tells him. “I usually see him coming by himself.”

Xander nods. “I’ll try to come with him more often, now,” he says. “I listened to your advice, at least.”

“You did,” Inigo says. “Thank you.”

“No, thank you. Look how happy he is.” He gestures to where Siegbert was putting his bag, a happy little smile on his face, humming the same song he hummed in the car. “Also, I wanted to say sorry to you, for last time. I really do apologize.”

Inigo shakes his head. “Oh, no, please. I mean, I also have some apologizing to do. I acted childishly yesterday, too. I’m sorry. Well, I was also having a bad day.”

Xander’s mind goes to that nasty woman who talked to Inigo before he did. Understandable. “It seems like we’re even, then,” He says.

“So it does,” Inigo says. “But thank you, really. For doing what you can for Siegbert. It’s good to know that I helped him, at least a little bit.”

“Of course,” Xander says. “He’s my son, after all. And I plan to continue trying to better from now on.”

And Inigo smiles at him again, and it’s so warm and bright and genuine, and Xander doesn’t look away this time and it gives him a funny feeling in his stomach that he can’t make out. “That’s good to know,” Inigo tells him.

                                                                

Xander just stands there for a few seconds, struck. “Yes. Yes, right,” is all he can say. He clears his throat. “Ah, well, I must leave soon, if I’m going to get to my meeting on time.”

“Oh, yes, of course! Please, don’t let me keep you,” Inigo says. “Goodbye, Mr. De Nohr. Have a nice day!”

Xander nods at him as he leaves through the door. “You too. Goodbye, Mr. Inigo.”

He says goodbye to Siegbert, kisses his forehead, and leaves. With the classroom door still open, Xander could still hear Inigo's friendly voice as he walked down the corridor, greeting students and parents.

He's late to his meeting anyway.

 

* * *

 

“We won’t take long, promise,” says Takumi. “We’ll just have dinner and then we’ll come right back.”

Camilla waves a hand. “Oh, nonsense,” she says. “You and Leo have as much fun as you want. And we won’t let Forrest out of our sight, don’t worry.”

“Thank you so much again for this, Camilla,” Leo tells her, coat folded neatly on his arm.

“Of course, Leo,” Camilla says. She pushes Leo and Takumi out of the door. “Now, off you two go. You’ll be late for your reservation!”

Camilla has agreed to play babysitter for Forrest so that Leo and Takumi could have a nice, romantic date, for once. Xander, once hearing this, asked right away if he and Siegbert could come over, since he knew that it’s been a while since Siegbert last played with his cousin. Camilla, the sweet soul she had, of course agreed.

“So!” Camilla comes out from the kitchen with two cups of cocoa in her hands. “Up for some brother-sister bonding time?”

Siegbert and Forrest were playing in Forrest’s room. Forrest was probably forcing Siegbert to play teatime with him and his stuffed animals, not that it would bother Siegbert (and, mind you, Xander has taught his son how to play teatime rather well. At age five, Siegbert is already an expert in the field of teatime).

“Yes, of course. It’s been too long, hasn’t it?” From the couch, Xander takes one hot mug. “Thank you.”

“It has been too long,” Camilla says, settling down beside him.

“I’m sorry, Camilla,” Xander says. “I’ve been busy.”

“Oh, don’t be,” Camilla says. “I have been, too, anyway. How have you been, Xander?”

“Fine.” Xander takes a sip.

Camilla gives him a look. “Xander.”

“All right, fine. Sorry.” He sets his mug on the coffee table in front of him (on a coaster. He will not be a barbarian, especially in his sister’s house). “A few days ago, Siegbert’s teacher said that he’s been sad because I haven’t been spending time with him. Which is true.”

Camilla nods, understanding. “And you feel bad about it.”

“Terribly.” Xander sighs. “I’ve been trying to do better. I just… I don’t… I don’t want…”

“You don’t want to be like him,” Camilla finishes, and he knows exactly who she’s talking about. Xander nods.

It brings a cloud of dark memories over him. Xander doesn’t want Siegbert to be scared of his own father, to be deprived of his affection, to wordlessly obey his every command not out of trust but of fear of punishment. He doesn’t know what he would do with himself if Siegbert grows up like he did. “Can we change the subject now, please,” Xander whispers.

Camilla puts a hand on his shoulder. “You are not going to be like him, Xander,” she says, “but okay. It makes you uncomfortable."

“Thank you," he says.

Camilla leans back on the couch and sips her cocoa. “So Leo told me he and Takumi are thinking of giving little Forrest a sibling.”

Xander lifts his brows. “Oh, that’s great,” he says. In his mind, he thinks, why didn't he also tell me?

Camilla hums. “They’re turning out to be quite the lovely family, don't you think? And Leo’s been the happiest he's ever been, with Takumi. I’m so glad for him.”

Xander smiles. "Me, too.”

"Speaking of," Camilla says, setting down her mug. “How’s your love life, my dear brother?”

“I. I, uh,” Xander says. He clears his throat. “Well, how's yours?”

Camilla raises a brow. “Hmm, there's this girl I've been eyeing at work, but I asked you.”

Xander flushes.

“No answer,” Camilla says, amused. “So there is someone, is there? Oh, are you secretly seeing someone, I wonder?”

“No!” Xander answers, flustered.

“Then there's at least someone you're interested in,” Camilla says.

Without thinking, Xander's mind goes to Inigo, and that smile he gave him that day he walked Siegbert to the classroom, and Xander remembers how it made him feel all nice and fuzzy inside and—wait. No.

“Xander?” Camilla asks, playful smile on her lips. “Well?”

“There's no one,” Xander says.

“Really,” she says.

“Really!”

“You sure about that, now.” Camilla picks up her mug and takes another sip.

“I…" Xander says, “I don’t know.”

“You don't know?" Camilla asks, raising both her brows this time.

“I don't," Xander replies, and finishes his drink. He tries not to think about it any further.

 

* * *

 

Siegbert’s hand is tiny in his. They're walking through the kindergarten's hallways again, on their way to Siegbert's classroom. Xander has been doing this with Siegbert every morning now, and it's evident in the happy way Siegbert carries himself these days. It's a small thing, but it means a lot. Xander isn't as early as he usually is to the office anymore, and he somewhat surprised himself when he found that he didn't mind as much as he thought he would.

“Good morning, Siegbert!” Inigo chirps as they enter the classroom. “You too, Mr. De Nohr.”

“Good morning, Mr. Inigo!” Siegbert says in return. Xander nods at Inigo in greeting. Siegbert waddles off to put his bag away.

“How are you today, Mr. Inigo?” Xander asks him. Aside from walking Siegbert to class everyday, he's also been having short, daily conversations with Inigo. He finds himeself looking forward to them each time he wakes up.

“Oh, I’ve been just—“

“Daddy!”

Before Inigo can finish his reply, a little girl runs up to him and tugs on the hem of his shirt. He gives Xander an apologetic look, and bends down to talk to the girl. "Yes, Soleil, what is it?”

"I still can’t find my bracelet,” Soleil says.

“Aw, really?” Inigo pats her hair. “I’ll help you find it before we start class, okay? Just let me finish talking to Siegbert's dad here. Be patient, yeah? Hey, listen. Look, Siegbert’s sitting by himself, alone, over there. Why don't you go play with him first? He’s nice, right?”

Soleil nods. “Good idea, daddy! Oh, maybe he's even seen my bracelet!” She runs off to say a loud “hello!” to Siegbert.

Xander chuckles as he watches his son act so shocked and flustered as Soleil talks to him (a lot. The girl is talkative.) It's cute, he has to admit. “I didn’t know your daughter was also one of your students," he tells Inigo. “But thank you, for asking her to play with Siegbert.”

“It’s no problem. She’s very friendly,” Inigo says. “Oh, right, there was something I needed to ask you.”

“Sure, anything,” Xander says.

“Well…” Inigo says, “we’re having a bake sale soon, for charity. All proceeds will go to the children's hospital. And, well, um, Siegbert once shared that you used to bake cookies for him with his aunt, so I was wondering if you would ever be interested in baking some things for the bake sale?”

"Oh," Xander says. Yes, that was right. He remembered it very fondly. Elise used to come over occasionally and the both of them would bake chocolate chip cookies to be shared with Siegbert. Siegbert, as a toddler, would try to “help”, and he would end up getting covered with flour, much to his aunt and father’s amusement. Those were fun times. It would be nice to bake with Elise again.

Inigo is looking at him expectantly. “So, will you…”

“Yes,” Xander says. “Yes, of course. I’d love to. I just have to ask my sister if she’s okay with helping me out.”

“Great!” Inigo says, clapping his hand together. “Thank you so much, Mr. De Nohr. Honestly, it’s a big help. I’ll text you the details? Well, uh, I mean, the school does have your phone number, for safety purposes, you know. I’m not a stalker.” He laughs awkwardly.

“Yes, sure. But, please,” Xander says, putting up a hand. He’s getting quite tired of all this “Mr. De Nohr" business. He was used to it, but he didn't like it. “It’s just Xander.”

“Oh. Oh, okay then,” Inigo says. “Well, thank you very much, Xander.” He gives him the smile again.

“You’re welcome,” Xander replies weakly. If there’s a giddy feeling in his stomach, he’s trying to ignore it. He tries to ignore it all the way back to his car, and when he’s alone in the front seat with his seat belt buckled he allows himself to grin like an idiot.


	2. Baking Talk (But No Actual Baking)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys guess what I'm going to try to be responsible and have a legit update schedule. Keyword try. So expect new chapters every other week? Oraayt B-)

Xander sighs once he gets into the elevator by himself. Work had dragged him down, as usual. At least he could pick up Siegbert and go home now. He just needs a cup of coffee first.

Nohr Corp. is a very, very big company, and a very, very big building which has its own Starbucks. But when Xander steps out of the elevator and sees that the line at the counter is particularly long today, he just isn’t feeling up to it anymore.

Going back inside the elevator, Xander remembers something Elise gave him some time ago. He fishes out his wallet and there it was: a coupon for another coffee shop nearby. Elise had recommended it to him before, and Xander knows that he’s driven pass the place every morning on the way to work. It’s not that far from his office, and he could walk there. A change every once in a while isn’t so bad.

He looks at the coupon again. Expires tomorrow. Perfect, just in time.

The elevator doors open, and Xander walks out through the lobby, greeting the people passing by and the security by the entrance briefly. He leaves the building, wrapping his coat tighter around himself in the cold air.

A bell chimes above the door as he enters the coffee shop. It’s cozy, with comfy-looking furniture in warm colors. There’s no shortage of customers, mostly students with books and laptops, but the place isn’t completely filled and there aren’t any long lines. Xander makes his way up to the counter to see what kind of coffee they serve.

“Xander?”

He looks away from the chalkboard menu mounted on the wall to see Inigo standing behind him. He wasn’t dressed as he usually was as a teacher, but he was in something more fitting for lots of movement, and the bag he had with him was the kind athletes carried around. Xander wondered if he did sports, or something.

“Ah, hello,” Xander says. “I was just getting some coffee.”

“Me too,” Inigo says. “I need some energy after a day of teaching, after all.”

“Oh? Well, you do look like you're going to a gym. Or jogging, maybe? Tennis?” Xander asks.

Inigo laughs. “No, actually, it’s… oh, never mind. It’s kind of embarrassing.”

“Really, now,” Xander says. “I won’t judge you. Though if you prefer not to say, that’s all right.”

Inigo considers it, his face scrunching up in thought. It was sort of adorable, and Xander almost smiles. “Hmm. Oh, fine,” Inigo says. “My mom, she's a ballet instructor. She has her own studio, and I help out with her classes sometimes, usually on Fridays, like today.”

“Ballet? Really?” Now that's interesting. “And you find that embarrassing?”

“Ugh, yeah.” Inigo scratches the back of his neck. “Well, it is kind of weird, I mean. Right?”

Xander shakes his head. “No, not at all. At least not to me. Ballet is hard, isn’t it? I have a friend who dances, and she says ballet is the hardest. It’s quite painful, I hear. So I find it quite admirable, honestly.”

Inigo looks impressed, his lips in a half-grin. “Huh. Wasn’t expecting that from you.”

“I may look like a scary jerk—" (one intern put it that way once, as he overheard) "—but I do try my best not to act like one.”

Inigo looks at him incredulously. “Whaaat?” he says lightheartedly, and punches Xander lightly on the arm. “No, you don’t. You look like a movie star, you stud.”

Before Xander can reply, someone clears their throat very loudly, and they both turn to see the barista with an impatient look at the counter. “So are you two just going to continue flirting, or are you actually going to order something?”

                                                        

Xander goes completely red. “Oh—oh, no—we're just. Friends," he chokes out.

“Ah, Severa! Haha, sorry,” Inigo says. “Goodness, your hair is looking lovely today. Did you go to the salon?"

Severa raises a brow. “I can punch you.”

“Now that's not good customer service,” Inigo chides.

"I can punch you after my shift. I know where your dance classes are.”

Inigo puts a hand over his chest with a gasp, acting gravely offended. "You would punch me in the face, right in front of my own mother? Now that is just cruel, even for you.”

Severa rolls her eyes. “What's it going to be, Inigo?”

“Just the usual, thanks." He turns to Xander, who is still red-faced. Inigo, trying to be polite, does not comment on this. "Have you been here before? I can tell you what's good if you don't know what to order."

"Yes, that'd be great. It's my first time here," Xander says, his voice still a little strained. Just a little. Not that he would ever admit it.

Inigo orders for him. They both pay for their orders, and Severa goes off to make their coffee. “She's been my best friend since I was five. We get along very well,” he says.

“I… can see that," Xander replies.

"Oh, by the way, I forgot to ask you,” Inigo says. "Any update on those baking plans, did you get to call your sister yet?”

"No, not yet, actually," Xander says. "I've had a lot of things to do recently, it just slipped my mind. Thank you for reminding me, though. I'll try to call her when I get home.”

"All right, got it," Inigo says. "Tell me if you guys are going through with it, okay?”

Xander nods. a while later, Severa comes back with their coffee. Xander sees that Inigo's cup had "Jerkass Loser" scribbled over it, and, since Severa didn't ask for his name, Xander's had “Tall guy with Jerkass Loser”. Xander takes a sip. It was delicious, better than what he could've gotten at the Starbucks in his office.

It must've shown on his face, because Inigo laughs and says, "Told you it'd be good.”

Coffee cups in hand, they both say their goodbyes as they part their respective ways once they exit the shop. Xander promises again to call his sister, and Inigo calls out a "See you tomorrow!” and gives him that smile again before turning and walking away.

With a silly little feeling in his stomach, Xander goes back to his office to get his car. He thinks he'll visit that coffee shop more often now. And when he stands in front of his car in the office parking lot, he realizes that he completely forgot to use the coupon he had. Xander groans at himself. Just great.

 

* * *

 

Elise picks up on the second ring. “Xander! Hi! How are you? Why are you calling?” A gasp. “Did something go wrong? Are you okay?”

“No, everything’s fine,” Xander answers. “I’m sorry. I know I don’t call often.”

“That’s okay!” Elise says, chipper as ever. “I know you’re busy. I’m glad you’re all right! Ooooh, wait, I have something to tell you! Guess what, Xander!”

Xander chuckles. He’s missed his sister. “What is it?”

“I got the highest score on my test! For like, the first time EVER. I’m catching up to Leo now! Except, y’know, I actually studied and worked hard for it. Leo never studied for his tests because he's so smart and intelligent already... Anyway, there’s nothing in my head but chemical formulas now…”

“That’s great, Elise. I’m really proud of you,” he says. Elise is in college taking pre-med. Ever since she was young, she’d wanted to become a doctor (well, after her previous goal of becoming the princess of ponies). Her big heart has always been set on becoming a pediatrician and helping other people get better. It suited her—she always did work well with kids. Siegbert loved her; she was the "fun aunt".

“Aaanyway, was there anything you needed? Oh, are you finally taking up my offer of helping decorate Siegbert’s room? Or wait, YOUR room?!”

“No, but thank you. I think I like to appreciate your artistic genius from afar, instead of… in my face when I wake up in the morning,” Xander said.

“Aw, boo! Boring, Xander, BO-RING!” Elise said. “At least Forrest likes my stuff. Have fun with your boring, loveless, beige walls, Xander.”

Xander laughed. “I’m sorry, Elise. By the way, I wanted to thank you for that coffee suggestion. They have great stuff.”

“Hey, no problem. Glad you liked it.”

“Though there actually was something I needed to ask you.” He told her about the bake sale.

“Bake cookies with you? And for a children’s hospital? You know it would make me a monster if I refused!” Elise said. “I’d absolutely just love to. When can I come over? I can bring my fun cookie cutters! I have some shaped like penguins.”

“You can come over anytime you’re free. I know you’re busy with college.”

“Yup, I totally am, because I’m big and responsible now, like the rest of you guys!” Elise giggled. Xander rolled his eyes fondly. “But, yeah, I can come over.”

They discussed suitable dates and times until they finally decided on one. “All right. Thank you, Elise, really. I’ll see you soon, then?”

“Yeah,” Elise says. “Ok, one last thing—are you _sure_ you wouldn't want a few fairy lights around?”

Xander considered it. “Actually, I think Siegbert would appreciate those.”

“Yay! I’ll bring some over. Bye, Xander! Love you!”

"I love you too," Xander replies before ending the call. He goes back to the calendar on his phone, just as he had while he and Elise were talking about dates. His schedule for Saturday, the day of the bake sale, is completely free (except for a reminder telling him to have the laundry done). 

An idea pops into his head. He types it down into the notes app so that he won’t forget it.

 

* * *

 

"So Auntie Elise will be coming over?” Siegbert asks Xander as they walk to his classroom.

“Yes," Xander answers. “Are you excited?”

Siegbert nods his head excitedly. Xander smiles. They get to his classroom. Inigo is already there, as usual, as well as some of the other children. He bends down to give Siegbert his goodbye kiss before his son runs off, then goes up to talk to Inigo.

“Hey,” Inigo says, looking up from organizing some papers. “Morning.”

“Good morning," Xander says. “So, I called my sister. We’ll be bringing cookies over for your bake sale.”

Inigo’s face lights up. “Really? That’s great. Gosh, thank you so much. Oh, give your sister my thanks, too, please?”

Xander nods. “Of course. It’s no problem, really. We’d be glad to help in any way we can,” he says. “There was something else I wanted to talk to you about. Do you need any more help for the bake sale?”

“Actually, yeah,” Inigo says. “The only teachers available to help man the booth on the day itself are me and Owain, and Owain could only stay for a few hours because he has a family thing to attend. I would’ve asked my friend Severa—you remember her, right?—but she’s busy with her job and business school… why are you asking?”

Xander inhales. “Well, I’m actually not doing anything on Saturday, so I thought that if you needed more help I could come and stay… If Siegbert can come, too, of course.”

He’s not doing this just to spend time with Inigo, nope, not at all. It’s purely out of his charity and willingness to lend a hand. Besides, it’s for a children’s hospital. What kind of monster would turn down helping poor little sick children? Inigo would have a hard time if he were to run the bake sale all by himself, and Inigo’s a good teacher, and a good person. Why would Xander _not_ volunteer his aid? That’d be just unkind of him. Also, if Elise found out she would call him a "huge jerk", for sure. Xander’s just trying to be a good brother. He’s definitely not doing this because he’s, what, _attracted_ to Inigo or something, or… or…

Oh. Oh, no.

But before Xander can swat those ideas out of his head, Inigo’s looking up at him with such a sunny, radiant expression and he’s giving him _that_ smile again and, oh, this was a good idea, it really was, and Xander can’t think.

“Oh, _really_?” Inigo asks in happy disbelief. “That would be so great! You really don’t know how much I appreciate—oh.” His expression wilts. “Wait, I’m sorry. I just… you’re too nice! I don’t want to take advantage of your kindness. I couldn’t ask you to spend a whole day selling brownies! Also, it would probably be cold. That’s not fun.”

“Please, no,” Xander says. “I insist. As I said, I’d be glad to help in any way I can.”

“Oh, but! Oh…” Inigo says, pouting. “Well… hmm… okay, fine! But you can back out any time you like, all right? And you don’t have to stay the entire day.”

Xander shakes his head. “It’ll be fine. I can stay as long as you need me to.”

Inigo sighs. “Thank you, Xander. Really. I mean it.”

“You’re welcome,” Xander says. He fishes his phone out of his pocket and checks the time. He looks back at Inigo. “Sorry, but I should really leave now.”

Inigo nods. “Yes, sure, go ahead. Thank you so much again. I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”

“There’s no need for that. It's fine.” He puts his phone back in his pocket. “Well, I’ll be seeing you, then.”

As Xander moves to leave, Inigo waves him goodbye. “Bye, Xander! Have a nice day!”

“You too,” Xander replies. Inigo smiles at him. Xander looks away immediately, and leaves. As he walks through the hallways, back to the parking lot, he tries not to think about how Inigo looked really nice, or how his smile makes him feel so strange. He tries not to think about how his mind went to Inigo when Camilla asked if there’s anyone he’s interested in, or how he might—just _might_ —like him and he’s using the bake sale as an excuse to spend more time with him.

Once he’s in his car, he shakes his head rigorously, as if doing that will fling those ideas away from his mind and far into oblivion. Those thoughts consume his mind on his drive to the office anyway.

This is ridiculous, he tells himself once he’s parked his car in the office parking lot. He is being ridiculous. He hasn’t even known Inigo for that long. He needs to stop being ridiculous.

Also, what does he even think could ever come out of this, he thinks as strides inside the office and into the elevator, every step he makes a bit too harsh. It’s not like he’s ever been good at this kind of thing, anyway. Even with Siegbert’s mother. He doesn’t know how that happened to him. The only reasonable explanation is that is was a stroke of good luck, and it was a stroke of good luck that’s not ever likely to grace his life again. Also, he hasn’t even been on a date with anyone for five years. Also, he doesn’t think he’s ever been romance material anyway, what would Inigo see in him? Also—

“G’morning, Mr. de Nohr!”

Xander snaps his head up. His feet have already brought him just outside his private office, and his secretary Peri was already at her desk.

“Oh… Good morning, Peri,” Xander says, blinking. 

“You were mumbling to yourself,” Peri says. “Everything a-okay in there, Sir?”

“Yes, yes, everything is… a-okay,” he says absentmindedly. Xander puts his hand on his doorknob, then stops. He turns back to Peri. “I don’t have anything on Saturday, don’t I?” He knows he doesn’t, but it doesn’t hurt to double-check (and triple-check, and quadruple-check, in some cases).

“Hmmm… Lemme see…” Peri types some things unto her computer. “Nope! Nothing.”

“Okay. Good.” He opens his door, then stops again. “Do I have anything this afternoon?”

Peri types some more things. “You’ve got a meeting with Mr. Iago. Eugh... him.”

_Eugh, him_ , indeed. “Is that important?”

“Well, nobody really likes him because he’s an asshole, except the big guy de Nohr, so I don’t think anyone would be mad if you reschedule. Except for Iago. Oh, and your dad, maybe. Though I don’t really think he would actually mind THAT much, if you had a reason, since it’s just a little ‘ol meeting.”

“Oh. Oh, okay,” Xander says. “So could you reschedule that for me, then, please?”

“Okie-dokie,” Peri says. “So what’s so important that you’re moving a meeting? Or maybe you just don’t like him.”

“I’m picking my son up from school today,” Xander says, and gets in his office.

When he settles into his chair behind his desk, something else comes to mind. Xander remembers the little girl who came running up to Inigo the other day, his daughter. And if he has a daughter, he could have a wife. Or husband, whatever. Xander runs through his memory to check if he’s ever seen a ring on Inigo’s finger, but he hasn’t really paid attention to that detail so he isn’t really sure. Of course, there’s always the chance that Inigo could be like him, single, but as if that’s going to happen…

Nothing good could come out of being attracted to a potentially married man. Xander buries his face in his hands and groans, willing himself to forget everything.

 

* * *

 

Inigo sits on the little stool in the storytelling corner of the classroom, with a storybook about wyverns and pegasi on his lap open facing the kids, who were all sitting cross-legged on the carpet. Siegbert sits at the very front, chin in his hands as he listens very attentively. Soleil sits somewhere in the middle, stuck in between Mitama, who was sleeping, and that one kid Bobby who likes to eat glue.

“… And then they all lived happily ever after,” Inigo says, closing the book. “Now, wasn’t that a nice story?”

Most of the kids nod and agree, though Siegbert is the most enthusiastic. A loud snore is heard. Inigo sighs.

“Soleil, wake Mitama up, please,” he says. Soleil chirps an “Okay, Daddy!” and pokes Mitama in the side. She wakes up with a yelp. Inigo continues, “The story had a very important lesson, too. Can anyone tell me what that lesson is?” A hand shoots up. “Yes, Caeldori?”

“The lesson is that we should be nice to everyone,” Caeldori says, standing up. “Even if they’re different, like the wyvern.”

“That’s very good. Thank you, Caeldori,” Inigo says. Caeldori sits back down.

“Mr. Inigo! I have a question!” says Preston, a snooty little kid who acts like he’s better than everyone else, and the son of Mrs. Bernard, the mother who yelled at him during the report card givings.

“Yes, Preston, what is it?” Inigo says.

“My mommy says that people who are different need help, and we need to help them so that they change and would be more like us,” he says haughtily. 

Inigo presses his lips together into a tight smile. Being patient is part of his job. He is a teacher. He is a professional. He will not groan and roll his eyes at a child, no matter how narrow-minded his mother and her teachings are.

“Well,” Inigo says. “It’s important to understand that you can’t force people to change who they are. It’s not a nice thing to do. What you have to do is respect them, and what I mean by that is that you would treat them as you would treat any other person. You wouldn’t like it if someone else was mean to you, right?”

“No,” answers Preston.

“So you should imagine yourself being in their shoes. If you were being bullied, you would feel really bad, right? You would be sad. So that’s why it’s important to treat everyone nicely.”

“But… But my mommy says…” Preston says, pouting. “My mommy says it’s bad to be different! She says they go to hell. What if I just want to help them, Mr. Inigo?”

Inigo frowns. This poor kid, what has his mother been teaching him? He knows that he’s already been reprimanded for teaching his students how to be nice people (which was ridiculous, honestly), but he can’t let this pass. It would just eat at him if he did. What sort of teacher would he be? At the end of the year, his students would leave his classroom with heads full of letters and colors and numbers, but not a single lesson of the heart.

This isn’t politics, it’s basic human decency. It’s what five year-olds need to learn, especially at this early age, in order for them to grow up into respectable people.

“They won’t be going to hell, Preston.” He knows that not everyone in this class is religious, and neither is he, but this is important. “You know that they say that’s only for people who do bad things, right?” Preston nods. “Exactly. People who _do_ bad things, like stealing or hurting others. But when someone being ‘different’ is different from someone doing bad things, because when you do bad things, you have a choice whether you do it or not. For example, a person gets to choose whether he should hurt someone or not. But ‘different’ people don’t have a choice like that. They don’t get to choose, because that’s how they just are.”

Preston is quiet. He’s clearly thinking about it a lot. The other kids are quiet as well. The school bell rings, cutting through the silence.

“That’s the end of class,” Inigo says. “Well, off you all go to the waiting area. Mr. Owain will be there to watch over you kids again.”

The kids all scramble to get up, collect their things, and leave the classroom. Inigo puts the storybook back in its place in the shelf. He goes back to his teacher’s desk to fix his things. Soleil comes over to him.

“That was really cool, Daddy!” she tells him.

Inigo smiles and ruffles her hair. “I hope you learned something today.”

“Mmm-hmm!” Soleil says. “But I knew it already before. You always read me that story at bedtime!”

Inigo laughs. “That’s why you know it better than anyone. So you should try to help the others understand its lesson, all right? Because the lesson is the most important.”

“Like you did?” Soleil asks. Inigo nods. “Okay, Daddy. But I think you’re wrong, though. I think the most important part is when all the pegasuses throw a party for the wyvern when they’re finally nice to her.”

“It’s pegasi, sweetie,” Inigo says. “One pegasus is just pegasus, but if you have a lot it’s pegasi.”

“What?! No way. That’s so weird!” Soleil says. “‘Pegasi’. So weird!”

“It is,” Inigo says, laughing again. “Words are weird.”

“Umm… Mr. Inigo?”

Inigo and Soleil both turn to see Siegbert standing in front of them, hands behind his back. All the other kids have already left.

“Oh, hello, Siegbert,” Inigo says. “Why are you still here? Is there something you need to talk about?”

“Um, I just wanted to… um,” Siegbert says, face red, “I… I made you a gift.” He handed over the thing he had been hiding behind his back, a folded piece of paper.

“For me? Really?” Inigo takes the paper. Soleil leans over to look at it as well. “Aww, thank you so much, Siegbert."

On the front, in childish handwriting, “To: Mr. Inigo. From: Siegbert” is written in crayon. Inigo opens the card, and inside is a drawing of him and Xander, swords in hand, with the defeated Owain beneath them. However, according to the labels he was “Laslow” and Owain was “Odin Dark”, the personas they had made up during playtime (usually it was Owain who led the dragon-slaying sessions, but Inigo was roped into it from time to time). It’s surprisingly well-drawn for a kindergartener, and while Siegbert was far from a da Vinci, his drawing has ears and noses and even eyebrows, features not often found in the simple stick figure drawings of kids his age. Inigo was, undeniably, impressed.

“I wanted to say thank you for being friends with my papa,” Siegbert explains shyly.

“Awww,” Inigo coos. He’s so touched. “Thank you, Siegbert. I’ll keep this. It’s so nice! Did you really draw this all by yourself?”

Siegbert nods, still blushing, but with a smile on his face now, happy that Inigo liked his present.

“You should really keep practicing, Siegbert. I think you could become a great artist someday, if you wanted to.”

Siegbert’s face brightened. “Really, Mr. Inigo?”

“Mmm-hmm,” Inigo agreed.

“Oh, what about me, Daddy?” said Soleil from his side. “I’m good at drawing, too, right?”

“Yes, you are, buttercup,” Inigo said, pinching her cheek. Soleil giggled. “The both of you are.” He looked at the card again. Labelled above the drawing of Siegbert’s father was “Prince Xander”. Inigo noticed that in the drawing he was wearing a crown as well. “You made your dad a prince? That’s cute.”

“My aunties and uncle are always saying that someday my grandpa will give the company to Papa,” Siegbert says. “And I thought it was like in the fairy tales, like when the king gives the kingdom to the prince.”

“Or princess!” Soleil adds.

“Or princess. You’re right, sorry, Soleil,” Siegbert said, with all seriousness. Inigo almost laughs. It’s adorable how Siegbert often tried to act so mature, when he was so small and tiny. It’s almost like he’s trying to emulate his father. Oh, wait. On second thought, that explains it. Inigo thought it was even cuter now.

He thinks about what Siegbert said, though. From his short conversations with Xander in the morning, he’d found out that Xander de Nohr was an _actual_ de Nohr, and that he worked for Nohr Corp. and his father was the CEO. He often forgets how rich Siegbert and Xander are. Well, when Siegbert acts like such a total sweetheart all the time compared to Preston Bernard, whose family was also pretty loaded (though Inigo’s sure the de Nohrs are, like, ten times wealthier), Inigo guesses he can’t be blamed.

Still, Inigo feels like there’s something missing in the card. "Why didn't you draw yourself, too?” he asks Siegbert. “We could’ve really used your help defeating Owai—er, Odin Dark.”

“Oh! I didn’t think about that,” Siegbert says. “It’s okay. It doesn’t matter. I won’t be good enough to help you anyway.”

He said it in such a casual tone, as if he didn’t even give it a second thought, that Inigo found himself frowning. Does Siegbert really think so lowly of himself, when he’s this young? But he does so well in so many things, and he’s so nice… 

“You shouldn’t say that, Siegbert,” Inigo tells him earnestly. “I bet you would’ve done great.”

Siegbert looks unsure, but before Inigo can say anything else, there's a knock on the door.

“Excuse me, I just wanted to ask if you’ve seen—Oh, there you are.” It was Xander.

“Papa!” Siegbert runs towards his father and hugs his waist. Xander settles his hands on his shoulders, smiling. He doesn't do that often. It looks good on him. Inigo thinks he should do that more.

“Hello, Siegbert,” Xander says. “I was looking for you outside.”

“I’m sorry. I was just talking to Mr. Inigo. You’re picking me up today, Papa?” Siegbert asks, looking up at him.

"Yes. I left the office early. I already texted your Aunt Corrin not to fetch you because I would,” Xander says. He lifts his eyes to Inigo. “Hello.”

“Hey,” Inigo says, waving. He thinks he sees Xander’s gaze lower to his hands for some reason, then thinks nothing of it.

“Hello, Mr. Siegbert’s Dad!” Soleil says. 

Inigo laughs. “This is Soleil. You remember her?”

“Ah, yes, I do,” Xander says. Siegbert has detached himself from him, and now was standing by his side, holding his hand. “Hello, Miss Soleil.”

“Siegbert did a good job in class today,” Inigo says.

Xander looks down at his son. “Really? That’s great, son. Do you want to get something to eat before we go home? We can go to that waffle place you like.”

“Oh, waffles! Yes, please, Papa!” Siegbert says, eyes shining in excitement.

Xander and Inigo exchange their goodbyes, so do Siegbert and Soleil. Siegbert grabs his things, and he and his father leave through the door.

“… Can we get waffles, too, Daddy?” Soleil asks Inigo once they’re gone.

Inigo ruffles his daughter’s hair one more time. “Maybe on the weekend, sweetie.”

“Awww. Okay.”

“Or maybe you can ask your grandmother to make some when we get home, if she’s not too tired,” Inigo tells her. 

“Yay!” Soleil says, bouncing. Inigo smiles.

 

* * *

 

A few days later. Seated behind his office desk, Xander reads again the letter from an environmental group begging the company not to continue with the construction of a new mall that will cut down lots of trees and harm several animals’ lifestyles.

He can’t do anything about it, as much as he’d like to. If it’s what his father wants, it will happen. His grip on the paper tightens.

Xander tries to tell himself that it’s all right. A new mall would stimulate the economy in the area, attract more business, and provide more job opportunities. It’s for the greater good, he assures himself.

It doesn’t work anyway. He still feels terrible—and he knows that it doesn’t matter, whether he feels bad about it or not, because they’re still going to do it. His guilt’s not going to solve the problem. He’s only useless and cowardly.

Xander puts the letter down and massages his temple with his fingers. When he inherits this company, there’ll be no more letters like this. He will do better.

He puts the letter away, sighing to himself. He needs to pick Siegbert up from Corrin’s soon. Elise is also coming over today, for the cookies. At least he has that to look forward to. He gathers his things and prepares to leave, saying goodbye to Peri and any others he passes by on his way out.

When the elevator doors open, his father is inside.

“Xander,” Garon says in greeting, nodding his head in acknowledgement. 

Xander swallows. “Father,” he says, and steps inside. The doors close, and they are alone.

For a few moments they are silent as the elevator travels down, the both of them looking ahead, avoiding each other’s gaze.

Garon speaks first. “I’ve noticed that you’ve been coming in later than usual recently,” he says in a neutral tone, still not looking at his son.

“So I have,” Xander replies, tense.

“You used to be so punctual.”

“I apologize, Father.”

“There are expectations for you, as heir of this company. You must know that.”

“I do, Father. Forgive me.” Why is he being scolded for this? For something so small? It’s only a few minutes everyday, not hours.

The doors open on the sixth floor and around five or six people pile in, and Xander sighs in relief when he’s separated from his father by the new crowd. They all greet Garon and Xander quietly, looking down to avoid eye contact with Garon. The elevator is quiet, and Xander knows that it’s because they’re all too terrified of Garon to speak. He knows it very well.

The employees rush out once they arrive at the ground floor, eager to get away from Garon. Xander would, too, but his car’s in the basement parking. Before Garon leaves, he gives Xander one last look over his shoulder, the look that Xander’s been familiar with since he was young. A warning.

Xander leans his back against the elevator once everyone else is out. He can’t please everyone, he knows that. What would he rather have: his father’s cold approval, or his son’s laughter? But at the same time, he can't just defend himself on this; talking back is disrespectful, and he knows where disrespectful gets him.

It’s why he just takes all of Garon’s words in.

 

* * *

 

Elise is at Corrin’s apartment when he goes to pick Siegbert up.

“Oh,” he says, “you’re here. I thought you would come to our house.”

Corrin lived in her apartment with her boyfriend Silas. It wasn’t big or fancy, but they were content with it. Corrin is the one who picks Siegbert up from school, because Xander is usually too busy to leave the office early, and so Siegbert is here almost everyday. Corrin and Silas are so kind, and Siegbert loves being with them. Xander’s so grateful to have people like them watch over Siegbert. He tries to make it up to Corrin all the time, and every time she shakes her head and insists that she’s just doing her job.

Elise smiles. “Corrin’s place is sort of nearer. Also, I wanted to see her!” She goes to hug him. Xander hugs her back.

“Auntie Elise showed me her baking supplies, Papa!” says Siegbert. “She has cookie cutters shaped like penguins and cats!”

“So she’s told me,” Xander says. Being with Siegbert and Elise lifts his mood, at least.

“Do you guys think you could save some for me?” Corrin asks.

“I could bake cookies for you if you want, honey,” Silas calls out from the kitchen.

“Aww, but I want the penguin ones.” Corrin leans down to Siegbert’s level and taps her cheek. “Give Auntie Corrin her goodbye kiss, kiddo.” Siegbert smiles and complies.

Silas pops his head out of the kitchen. “You guys are leaving already?”

Xander nods. “Yes. We don’t want to finish baking too late.”

“Yeah, you guys finish up early, okay?” Corrin says. “Xander, you’ll drive Elise home after, right?”

“It’s fine, you guys!” Elise says. “I can take the bus.”

“Nonsense,” Xander says, brows furrowed. “Siegbert and I will take you home.”

“Hmph, fine, if it’d put your mind at ease…” Elise says. “I know you’re stressed enough at work, anyway.”

Xander thinks about the environmental group’s letter, and his father. She’s definitely right.

A while later and they’ve left. Xander drives them to their house under the reddening sky. From the mirror Xander sees Siegbert in the backseat looking out the window, watching the sun sink down between the city’s tall skyscrapers. He’s still a little upset about Garon. It’s just like as if he’ll never be able to satisfy him. Of course, at this age, after so many years, he’s gotten used to it—though that never meant he ever liked it.

Elise is watching him from the passenger seat, he thinks. But whenever he turns his eyes to her to check, she’s looking at the sunset through the window.

They arrive at the house, and Xander helps Elise bring down all her baking supplies. She brought a lot (“Well, you need to sell lots of cookies if you want to make lots of money to help the sick children!”). Siegbert goes upstairs to put his school bag in his room. When Xander places the supplies down on the kitchen counter, Elise comes up to him and puts her hand on his shoulder.

“All right,” she says. “What’s wrong?”

Xander looks at her, and sighs. Elise has always been the kind of person to immediately know what others are feeling.

“You’ve been looking so sad ever since I saw you,” she says. “C’mon, Xander, what’s up? You can tell me. It’s not good to keep bad things inside you!”

“It’s just…” Xander runs a hand through his hair. “It’s just the usual.”

Elise frowns. “Is it Father?” Xander nods. “What did he do this time?”

Xander tells her what happened. Elise listens quietly all the way, her hand calmly stroking his back in understanding.

“… And I know I shouldn’t be making such a big deal out of this, but. I just.” He lets out a breath in frustration. “I don’t know, Elise.”

“Don’t say that, Xander,” Elise says. “He’s just a big jerk. Your feelings are important, okay? Whatever you’re feeling is real. You shouldn’t belittle your emotions so much. Or else you’ll hurt their feelings,” she added jokingly.

Xander felt a smile tugging at his lips. “Hurt my feelings’ feelings?”

“Yes. You’ve seen that movie, right?” Elise says. “The emotions in a girl’s head running around and talking.”

He has. “Siegbert made me watch that,” he says. “He was crying so much after. I didn’t know what to do because it made me so sad too. We just decided to be sad together.”

“That’s so cute! My strong big brother, getting sad over a Pixar movie,” she says, giggling.

Xander smiles at her properly this time. “Thank you, Elise. I feel much better now.”

“Of course, Xander,” Elise says. “Do you know what would make you feel even better, though?”

“What?”

Elise leans over to dig into the supplies until she finds the penguin-shaped cookie cutters. She practically shoves them into his face. “Penguin cookies!”

Siegbert comes down into the kitchen. “Sorry I took so long! My stuffed toys were all scattered so I put them back in their proper places. Don’t worry, Auntie Elise, I made sure that they were all comfortable,” he says in his best “look-at-me-I’m-big-and-mature-now” voice.

“Aww, that’s great, Sieggy!” Elise says. “Look at you, you’re so responsible!”

Siegbert beams at her. Xander laughs. “Well, he’s my son,” he says.

“Are you going to help us bake cookies, Sieggy?” Elise asks.

Siegbert nods. “Yes, Auntie! It’s because I’m res-pon-si-ble,” he says, pronouncing the word carefully so that he won’t get it wrong. “I know what that word means! It means I’m like Papa.”

“See? My son,” Xander says, putting a hand on Siegbert’s shoulder proudly.

“He sure is,” Elise says, messing up Siegbert’s hair. “Can you help us start by putting out the ingredients first?”

“Yes, Auntie,” Siegbert says, giving her a big smile. The three of them get to work, breaking open eggs, mixing batter, and cutting dough into all sorts of shapes. Siegbert helps Elise put frosting on the cookies in colors penguins aren’t supposed to come in, but everything feels light and happy and there’s lots of laughter and Xander’s so glad that he was asked to help the bake sale in the first place. (And Siegbert gets flour all over himself again.)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god you guys I just realized it was Siegbert's birthday when I posted this ahahahahahaha incredible timing HBD BABY BOY *thumbs up emoji*
> 
> tumblr [@transientvision](http://transientvision.tumblr.com)


	3. Inigo Is Regularly Embarrassed by His Parents

“Everything ready?” Xander asks. He balances the three boxes of cookies with one arm, and closes the car’s trunk with the other.

Siegbert nods enthusiastically. Xander’s glad that he’s so excited by the whole thing; he was afraid that he might find it boring. But Siegbert likes Inigo a lot, and as a five year-old he hasn’t had that many teachers yet but he’s decided that Inigo is his favorite. Spending time with your favorite teacher selling cookies outside of school was, for a kindergartener, as cool as you can get (aside from owning the biggest set of Crayola crayons, the one with a sharpener in the back).

The bake sale was set up in the park, where lots of people came and went on weekends such as this. The sky was clear and the sun was out, which was nice because is hasn’t been very warm out the past few days. They reach the bake sale stall, where they find Inigo and Owain already there, along with a few other parents who have brought baked goods on their own.

“Xander!” Inigo says when he sees them approaching. “Here, I’ll take this from you.” He moves to take the boxes from Xander’s hands—one with penguin cookies, another with cat cookies, and the other with bears—and puts them on the table.

"I helped make the cookies, Mr. Inigo,” Siegbert pipes up.

“Really?” Inigo says. “That’s very nice of you. I’m sure the ones you made would taste delicious.”

“Thank you!” Siegbert says. “I’m a very good helper. Papa said so.”

Inigo glances up at Xander. “Well, I think your papa is a very trustworthy man, so I believe him.” He smiles at him. “Thank you so much again, by the way. Really.”

“For the nth time, honestly. It’s fine.” He still hasn’t gotten used to strange feeling he gets when Inigo smiles at him. Xander hopes it doesn’t show on his face.

Xander notices that Inigo isn’t wearing any ring of any kind on any finger, just as he was when he checked that time he picked Siegbert up from school. He wished he wasn’t too obvious about it. Still, he doesn't really get his hopes up, too. No ring might mean he's not married, but it could still mean there’s a girlfriend. Or boyfriend. And it wasn’t like Xander could just come up to him and ask if he was single, that would just give him away, and he’s also very sure that telling Inigo that he’s "asking for a friend” would just make things weird.

“Mr. Inigo!” says a familiar, shrill voice. Xander turns to see that dreadful woman from before, the one who was yelling at Inigo during the report card givings. She was holding the hand of a blond, fox-faced boy. “I’ve left my brownies over there on the table. If that’s all then we’ll be taking our leave. My little Preston has a piano lesson to attend.”

“Yes, Mrs. Bernard,” Inigo answers. His tone is strictly formal, and less friendlier than when he was talking to Xander. “Thank you once again for your support.”

Mrs. Bernard waves a manicured hand. “Just doing our best to help the community,” she says in an annoyingly condescending voice. “Good luck selling those! Bye-bye now!”

Inigo waves at her as she and her son walk away, and once they’re out of sight he turns to Xander with an expression that screamed “I am sick of her”. Inigo moves to the box of brownies Mrs. Bernard left, the same slightly disgusted look still on his face.

“Look at these,” he says. “ _Store-bought_ ,” he spits out the word like vermin.Xander looks over. He hums. “Well, they’re expensive ones.”

“They are store-bought,” Inigo insists. “These brownies were made without love.”

“Perhaps she did not have time to make ones herself,” Xander reasons.

Inigo pouts. “Fine, you’re right. I’m being childish. It’s enough that she took the effort to help out at all,” he says. “Hey, Owain doesn’t have to leave for another hour or so after we set up, so you and Siegbert could just, like, chill around.”

“Is Soleil here, too, Mr. Inigo?” Siegbert asks.

“She is, actually. She’s down at the playground with her grandpa,” Inigo says. “I tried to convince her to just stay at home but she really wanted to come,” he tells Xander.

Siegbert tugs his father’s hand, looking up to him. “Can we go to the playground, too, please, Papa?”

“Sure,” Xander says. He turns to Inigo. “You’ll say when you need us, okay?”

Inigo nods. “Yeah, I’ll ask Owain to stop over before he leaves to tell you, or something,” he says. “Have fun, you guys!”

Hand in hand, they went over to the playground. Xander smiled at how Siegbert skipped along happily, humming some nursery rhyme at the same time. The playground was big and filled with children around Siegbert’s age, all running around laughing. At the sides sat parents on benches, watching over their children and making small talk with each other. 

Soleil was playing in the sandbox, and with her was a man with pale hair who Xander assumed was her grandfather.

“You know, where I’m from, there’s loaaaads of sand!” the man said.

“Really? Wow!” Soleil says, putting down her plastic shovel. “That sounds fun! How many sandcastles did you make?”

“Eh, it wasn’t really fun. The sand was just coarse and rough and irritating,” the man says. He pinches her cheek. “And I didn’t have a cute little kid like you to play with!”

Soleil giggles. “Grandpa!”

Xander sees that Siegbert’s fidgeting with the hem of his shirt, not moving. He gives Siegbert a little push. “Go on, say hi,” he tells him gently.

Siegbert looks up at him. “Okay, Papa,” he says. He goes off to Soleil and her grandfather, greeting them with a shy “hello”.

“Siegbert! You’re here!” Soleil says.

“Hm? Who’s this?” her grandfather says.

“He’s Siegbert, Grandpa! He’s my friend and also my classmate,” Soleil tells him. “He’s really smart and nice! He helps me out a lot.”

“Oh! Well, any friend of Soleil’s is a friend of mine!” says Soleil’s grandfather.

“Thank you, sir,” Siegbert says. “Um, Soleil, can I—“ he motions to the sandbox.

“Sure!” Soleil says cheerfully. “You can help me with my castle! I’ll let you be the prince, but I’m still the queen.”

“O-Okay!” Siegbert says. “That sounds fun.”

Soleil’s grandfather starts getting up, brushing grains of sand off his pants. “Well, there’ll be no space for the little guy with me in here,” he says. “Soleil, I’ll just be there, okay? Don’t get sand in your eyes. You could go blind. It would be fun if robo-eyes existed, but robo-eyes don't exist, so it's not fun anymore.”

“Okay, Grandpa!" Soleil says.

Soleil’s grandfather goes up to Xander. “Hello! You’re that kid’s dad?”

“Yes, I am,” Xander says, and holds up a hand. “Xander.”

“Henry.” He shakes it. “Hey, wait, I know you! Inigo talks about you.”

“Oh,” says Xander, blinking, “he… does?”

“Yup!” says Henry. “He likes you a lot. Want to sit down with me?”

“Okay,” Xander says, absentmindedly, as he and Henry go and sit on one of the benches. Inigo… likes him? A lot? No, he must mean as friends. Inigo likes him as a friend. A lot. At least now Xander knows Inigo doesn’t secretly hate him.

Xander and Henry spend the next hour or so conversing lightly on the bench, watching Siegbert and Soleil play. Henry smiles a lot, and while he does look like Inigo but it doesn’t feel the same as Inigo’s smiles. He’s sort of amusing, and not really how a typical grandfather would act, but Xander is used to dealing with the more eccentric kind of people, anyway. Like Peri. Henry reminded him of her. A little. Maybe they could be friends.

Later, in the midst of Henry’s gruesome story about the time he served in the military (Xander had just nodded along, trying to seem interested and not at all disgusted by all the tales of spurting blood and severed limbs), a voice interrupts them. Xander almost sighs in relief.

“Hey!”

A blond man Xander recognizes as Owain jogs over to them. “Ah, hello,” Xander says, standing up. “Leaving now?”

“Hi. Oh, hey, Henry!” Owain says. Henry waves. Owain turns back to Xander. “Inigo just told me to come over first.”

“Sure. I’ll go over to the stand right now,” Xander says, nodding.

“All right, thanks!” Owain says. He claps Xander on the shoulder. “Seriously, thanks a lot.”

“Uncle Owain, Uncle Owain!” says Soleil, running towards them from the sandbox. Siegbert follows behind. "Are you leaving already?”

“Yeah, kiddo,” Owain says. He looks over her to see the sandcastle she and Siegbert made. “Amazing!” he says in a new, booming, dramatic voice. “Was this exquisite castle of your creation, milady? It is absolutely marvelous! I am surely positive that such strong architectural genius would ward off spirits of evil and enemy armies. Truly, the finest castle in the land, indeed!”

Soleil laughed. “I don’t know what that means, but okay! Siegbert helped me.” Peeking from behind Soleil, Siegbert gave Owain a little wave.

“Of course! No artistic masterpiece such as this could be done alone,” Owain says.

“Thank you, Mr. Owain,” Siegbert says.

“Sure, ‘lil man,” Owain says. He checks the time on his phone, and winces. “Urgh, I’m late. Gotta go now, kids. See you guys later!”

“Goodbye, Uncle Owain!” Soleil calls out as Owain leaves.

“Hey, say hi to your parents for me!” Henry yells. “Nice guy,” he tells Xander. “A total weirdo, but the kids love him. Eh. He was weirder when he was younger.”

“You knew him before?” Xander asks.

“Mm-hmm. Me and my wife are friends with his parents. He and Inigo go way back! They were just kids playing in the backyard, back then.”

“Oh, I see,” Xander says. “I should go help Inigo at the bake sale now.”

“Yeah, sure!” Henry says. “Oh, you could leave Siegbert with Soleil here so they can continue playing. I’ll watch over him.”

“Really? That’s very kind of you. Thank you,” Xander says. He turns to Siegbert. “Siegbert, do you want to stay?”

“Yes, please, Papa,” Siegbert says.

“All right,” Xander says, bending down to ruffle Siegbert's hair affectionately. “Have fun. But don’t forget to be careful.”

“Thank you, Mr. Siegbert’s Dad! Goodbye!” Soleil says. 

Xander leaves Siegbert with Henry and Soleil. He did think that Henry was quite odd, but overall he seemed okay. And he’s Soleil’s grandfather, not just some random guy. Siegbert will be fine. When Xander gets back to the bake sale stand, everything is in place and all the baked goods are in display. Xander sees that Inigo’s been busy with a customer already.

“Thank you so much again for your support, ma’am,” he hears Inigo tell one smiling old lady as he hands her a brown paper bag. “Oh, your nails! What a pretty color! I am _so_ in love with them.”

“Thank you, dear,” the old lady says, showing off her pastel purple nails. 

“Xander!” Inigo says, once he notices Xander coming by. “I’m glad you’re here. Ready to help out?”

The old lady whistles at the sight of him. “My! Are all bake sale boys such hunks these days?”

Inigo giggles. “Well, if it brings in the customers!”

Xander's face is red. Oh god this is so embarrassing. The old lady leaves, but Inigo is still laughing.

“That old grandma’s totally into you,” he says.

Xander rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling. “Shut up.”

“Hey, so I think I actually could do with dealing with the customers,” Inigo says. “Do you think you could help out with recording transactions and handling the money, stuff like that?”

“Sure. I’m good at that,” Xander says.

“Great. Like, I do trust you anyway, because I think you’re a good guy, and also you’re stupid rich already so it’s not like you’re going to steal our cash. Oh, wait, unless…” Inigo says, biting his lip to stifle his laughter, “you want to just stand out here and act as our poster boy instead?”

Xander groans. “Shut up,” he says again.

Inigo keeps guffawing. “Your handsome face will attract customers! Think of the children, Xander!”

Inigo makes fun of Xander for the rest of the day, and for the rest of day Xander rolls his eyes. Inigo might not know that Xander does it fondly, or that he’s enjoying this too much, or that he’s glad to spend time with him at all, but Xander doesn’t really mind. Whenever there aren’t any customers stopping by, Inigo fills in the lull with conversation. Xander doesn’t remember the last time he had so much fun with someone by just talking.

“There was actually something I wanted to talk to you about,” Inigo says, when the amount of customers start trickling down. There's only a few baked goods left, the sun is setting, and it’s been getting a little colder. “About Siegbert.”

“Yes?” Xander says, looking up from where he was writing in the notebook.

“I don’t know, it just… it seems like Siegbert has some problems with self-esteem,” Inigo says. “Like he doesn’t think he’s good enough.”

Xander takes this in. A certain dreaded feeling of déjà vu washes over him. “I see,” he says. “This is probably my fault.”

“No! No,” Inigo says, frowning. “That’s not what I meant. I’m telling you this because I wanted to discuss it with you, I’m not confronting you or anything.”

“No,” Xander says. He sighs. “This has happened before, with my younger brother.”

“Oh,” Inigo says softly.

“He used to be so upset with himself,” Xander says, “because he didn’t think he could ever do as well as I did, apparently. He kept comparing himself to me and hated himself for it. Perhaps that’s what Siegbert’s been thinking, as well.”

Inigo moves, and puts his hand over Xander’s own: a gentle gesture. His hand is warm, and it grounds Xander back to reality. When he looks up at Inigo in quiet surprise, he’s met back with a forlorn, concerned expression on Inigo’s face. “I’m sorry,” he says. “I will do whatever I can to help your son, okay?”

Xander stares at him. How lucky was he to have someone like Inigo as Siegbert’s teacher, he wondered, someone who always watched over his students and truly cared about them? “Thank you,” he says, his voice just above a whisper. “I’ll do my part, too.”

Inigo gives him a small smile, and it's more muted and subdued than usual but it messes with Xander all the same.

“Hey, on the bright side," Inigo says, “I think Siegbert's got some innate artistic ability in him.”

“Oh, really, now?" Xander says.

“Yeah,” Inigo says. “He gave me a drawing the other day. He said he wanted to thank you for being my friend. Actually, I think I have a picture of it on my phone. Let me just…” Inigo lets go of Xander's hand to fish for his phone in his pocket. Xander is a bit disappointed at the loss of contact. Inigo scrolls through the pictures on his phone, sticking his tongue out a little as he searches for the right one. "Ah! Here.”

He holds up his phone to Xander, and on the screen Xander sees a picture taken of a crayon drawing of what he guessed was supposed to be him and Inigo, with some other person on the ground... Dead? Sleeping? It wasn't really clear.

"It's so cute, right? Siegbert’s so sweet, I love him,” Inigo says. “It honestly may not look that much to you, but believe me, it is a _ton_ of levels higher than what the other kids do.”

Oh, so it was like that. Xander knew that Siegbert was fond of drawing as he did it often, but he never was a good judge for art anyway so he wouldn’t have known that Siegbert excelled in it. All children’s drawings look the same to him. He hums, smiling. Fatherly pride swells in his chest. He doesn't understand something, though… “‘Laslow’? ‘Odin Dark’?” he asks. “And I'm a prince apparently?”

“Oh! Yeah, that.” Inigo laughs. “Those are just fantasy nicknames we made up. Well, Owain made them up. He’s Odin Dark. He plays with the kids a lot and sometimes he makes me do stuff too. I dunno, he’s a nerd, he likes that kind of stuff,” he says, shrugging. “Siegbert says you remind him of a prince because he knows you're going to inherit the company. He said it was like how princes get the kingdom.”

“Ah," Xander simply says. Ugh, he didn’t really want to think about that right now. “I see.”

“It would be really nice if you could encourage Siegbert’s interests, you know,” Inigo says, putting away his phone.

“Of course,” Xander says. “Though… what would you suggest? Do I just… go up to him and say ‘nice drawing, son, keep it up’?”

“Well, you could do that, and I'm sure Siegbert would appreciate it,” Inigo says. “You could also… um… Maybe buy him a nice paint set, or something?”

“Oh, that's a great idea,” Xander says, making a mental note to write that down as a reminder on his phone later. “I'll do that. Thank you.”

“Sure! I love helping out,” Inigo says. “Hey, actually…”

“What is it?” Xander asks.

“Our field trip’s going to be to the art museum,” Inigo says, scratching the back of his neck. “Since Siegbert seems interested in art, I think he’ll enjoy it.”

“Really? That’s nice,” Xander says, but Inigo is fiddling with his fingers and biting the inside of his cheek and oh, he probably just wants to say something. “… Is there anything else you want to tell me?”

“… We need parent chaperones,” Inigo says, looking at the ground. Is he embarrassed? “Look, okay, I know you’re very busy, you probably can’t, but I figured it wouldn’t hurt to ask anyway—“

“Sure.”

Inigo looks up at him, startled. “What?”

“Sure,” Xander repeats. “I’ll go.”

“Really?” Inigo says, a hint of a smile forming on his lips. “You don’t have to, if you’re busy—“

“No,” Xander says. “What? You said I should encourage Siegbert’s interests, right?” Inigo nods. “Then I’ll go. I want to. When’s the field trip?”

“It’s… a few months from now,” Inigo says.

“Okay. I can put that in my schedule,” Xander says.

“Okay. Okay,” Inigo says, nodding to himself. “Great.”

“Great,” Xander says.

Neither of them speak for a while. 

“… Siegbert won’t be embarrassed if I go, won’t he?” Xander says after some time.

“What? Oh,” Inigo says, “oh, no. No, the little kids don’t get embarrassed. Most of them are actually glad when their parents come. Siegbert’s a nice boy, I think he’ll be happy if you were with him.”

“Oh. Okay,” Xander says. “That’s good.”

Somebody comes by then, a customer, and Xander is thankful for the distraction. Inigo greets him amiably and proceeds to explain what the bake sale is for, and which cookies taste the best. How did things decided to take such a turn for the awkward, Xander didn’t know, but he tries not to think about it much, and instead focuses on counting the right amount of change to give to the customer.

A few more customers pass by, and eventually the receive two little ones accompanied by a pale-haired man.

“Daddy!” Soleil cries, running up to them.

“Hey there!” Inigo says. “Did you and Siegbert play together?”

“Yup! We made lots of sandcastles,” Soleil says. “I was the queen at first and Siegbert was the prince, but then I got bored of being the queen so I became the dragon instead!”

“Soleil was too strong,” Siegbert says. “I couldn’t protect the kingdom. I kept building it and building it again but she kept on destroying it with her dragon claws.”

“Aww, that’s too bad,” Inigo says. “But I hope you had fun storming the castle.” He gives Soleil a little wink, like he just told her a joke. Xander doesn’t get it.

Xander feels someone tug on his shirt. Siegbert’s standing to his side, and was motioning for Xander to bend down. Xander did, a smile on his face forming. “Yes, Siegbert?”

“Don’t tell this to Soleil, Papa,” Siegbert whispers in his ear, “but I let her win so that she wouldn’t feel bad.”

Xander fights the urge to laugh, because he knows Siegbert doesn’t like it when he treats him too much like a baby. He nods in the most serious way he can. “Okay. It will be our secret.” Siegbert smiles at him sweetly.

“It’s getting late,” Inigo says after a while. Sure enough, the sky was already dark, and the park’s lamp posts were starting to light up. “We should pack things up.”

“Can I have the leftover cookies, Daddy?” Soleil asks. “Pretty please?”

“Okay, but let's give some to Siegbert and his dad, too,” Inigo says. “Could you help us fix all the stuff? We should leave soon if we want to catch a cab home.”

“You're going to fit that table into a taxi?” Xander cuts in, incredulously.

“It’s… foldable,” Inigo says. "And it fit in Owain's car earlier.”

“Is Owain's car a taxi?" Xander asks, raising a brow.

Inigo sighs. “No,” he says.

“Then that won’t work,” Xander says. “You’ll have a hard time finding a cab. Why don’t I drive you guys home? There’s plenty of space in my car. And I have an extra booster seat for whenever my nephew comes along, so Soleil should be fine.”

“Oh, please, I couldn’t. You’ve done so much today already!” Inigo says. “Maybe I could get an Uber or something.” He pulls out his phone, but Henry puts his arm down.

“Thanks a lot for the offer!” Henry tells Xander. “We really appreciate it.”

“Dad,” Inigo says, giving Henry a look.

“So you’ll be coming with us?” Xander asks.

“Mm-hmm!” Henry says, ignoring his son.

“ _Dad_ ,” Inigo says again, narrowing his eyes.

“What?” Henry asks, turning to Inigo and shrugging. “He offered.” Inigo sighs deeply.

They all set to fix up the booth, putting away the signs and price labels, folding up the table. Siegbert was very particular in making sure that they leave no litter behind, because that’s what he apparently learned in school. Inigo put his hand over his chest when he heard it, touched. After everything was packed up, Inigo split the (very few) remaining baked goods and put them in plastic ziploc bags, then gave one to Xander.

Henry helps Siegbert and Soleil buckle up in the car. Xander rolls up his sleeves before he and Inigo both carry the folding table and other things into the car. Xander was quite surprised to find that someone with a lithe figure like Inigo was actually strong.

“Well, ballet isn't for wimps, y’know," Inigo says.

“I never said it was,” Xander replies, the corner of his mouth quirking up.

Inigo tells Xander where to go while he’s driving. In the back, Henry entertains the kids with stories. Xander thinks they might be a little bit morbid but Siegbert looks interested and Soleil seems to be used to them, and at least it wasn’t the same war story he was regaled with earlier. There’s some traffic, unusual for a weekend, but Xander’s secretly glad about it anyway because Inigo makes jokes and small talk when they’re caught unmoving between lines of other cars.

They reach Inigo’s house. Siegbert’s fallen asleep, so they try to get the table and other things out of the car as quietly as possible, with Soleil shushing them at every opportunity like a strict librarian. Xander offers to help them get their stuff inside, but Inigo politely declines and says that he’s done enough for today, and that he really appreciates everything he’s done. 

And then he gives him that smile again, and Xander tries his best not to make it seem obvious that he’s feeling so warm and happy at the sight as he waves them goodbye.

 

* * *

  

“Moooooom,” Inigo groans, landing face-first into the throw pillow beside his mother on the couch.

“Yes, sweetie?” Olivia says.

Inigo grumbles incomprehensibly into the pillow. 

“Please don’t get drool over the pillows,” Olivia says. Inigo sits up properly, mumbling an apology. “Thank you, sweetie. Now what was it you wanted to say?”

Inigo leans the side of his head on the back of the coach, looking at his mom. “He’s just so _kind_ and _tall_ and _handsome_ and earlier he rolled up his sleeves a little and I saw that he has _nice arms_ ,” he complains.

Other people would usually be embarrassed of being close to their parents, especially at this age, but Inigo doesn’t really care. His mom has been his best friend ever since, the person he confides in and the one he turns to for comfort. He’s never ashamed to take Olivia out on mother-son dates and take lots of pictures together and post them on Facebook. If anything, he’s extremely glad to have a sweet mother like Olivia.

                                                           

“Oh, this is the Xander guy you’ve been talking about, right?” Olivia asks. “You should’ve let him in for a while when he dropped you off. I wanted to thank him for driving you.”

“It was getting late already,” Inigo says. “I didn’t want to keep him.”

“He could’ve stayed for dinner!” Olivia says. “Besides, I would’ve liked to see if he’s really as handsome as you say he is.”

“No way!” Inigo shouts, his face flushing red. “You would’ve just told him embarrassing stories from when I was a kid or show him my baby pictures. Or you would’ve told him stuff and then he would find out about my stupid crush on him. Ugh. I used to be so mad at him at first. I like him so much now, it sucks.”

“Aww, no it doesn’t,” Olivia says. “It’s okay to like someone. Really, you should be old enough to realize this by now.”

“But mom!” Inigo says. “It’s so—so _frustrating_!”

“What is?”

“Feelings!” Inigo cries, throwing up his arms.

“There, there, sweetheart,” Olivia says, patting down his arm. “Come on, cheer up. Think of it like you’re in a romance novel! He’s like your… uh… Mr. Darcy! And you’re the male Elizabeth Bennet. Later on you’ll get married and have your happy ending. And then we’ll be rich and I can finally afford the bigger studio space I want.”

Inigo made a face. “I don’t think I’m smart or witty enough to be a male Elizabeth Bennet, Mom.”

“Well, if you’re a teacher, you should be smart, right?” Olivia says.

“That’s exactly it!” Inigo says. He sighs. “I can’t ask him out or anything because I’m his son’s teacher. It’s not professional.”

“Look at you, all mature and caring about being professional,” Olivia says fondly. “I remember when you were just a whiny, immature teenager, always flirting with everybody.”

“Exactly, mom!” Inigo says. “I’m not like that anymore. I’m a responsible adult now.”

“Yes, you are. I’m proud of you,” Olivia says. “But… um… you know that you’re only his _kindergarten_ teacher, right? It doesn’t really seem like that much of a big deal at this point.”

“It is to me,” Inigo mutters, pouting.

It was definitely his main reason, but there was also this tiny part of Inigo that was utterly convinced that he’s never going to have a chance with Xander because Xander is just way too much out of his league. And he’s never had much luck with his love life, anyway. Lucina punched him in the face when he asked her out in grade school, he never got the guts to confess his pathetic crush on Gerome in high school, and Soleil’s mom left him.

He doesn’t mention anything about this to his mom. His mom would just get upset and insist that he's wrong, he’s great, he’s definitely worthy of love. And words like that are easy enough to listen to, but not enough to actually believe.

“Okay, sweetie. I get it, it’s important to you,” Olivia says.

Inigo smiles at her. “Thanks, mom.”

“Roooaaaarr! I’m the big dragon and I’m gonna get you, evil wizard!” Inigo heard Soleil yell from the other room.

“Not unless you get a taste of my secret weapon! Nyahaha!” Henry yells back.

“EEEEK! Grandpa, stop—pfft, hahahaha! Ahahahaha! Stop tickling me!” 

Inigo looks at Olivia with a grave expression on his face. “How are they not tired,” he says.

Olivia shrugs. “They’re children.”

“Even Dad?”

“Especially your father.”

 

* * *

  

Around a week later, on a Friday evening. Xander had already texted Corrin that he’d be picking Siegbert up from her apartment later than usual, and got out of the office as soon as he could and drove straight to the mall to buy Siegbert a gift, an idea he had after he spent last Saturday with Inigo at the bake sale. He thought about just getting it on the weekend to save him the trouble, but then decided it would be better to get it by himself so that it'd be a surprise for Siegbert. (He also thought about just asking Peri to buy it for him, but shook the thought away because, well… who knows what Peri would get?)

He’s exhausted, and since he shelved a load of work to be finished at home over the weekend in order to leave the office early, Xander feels like needing a cup of coffee. Specifically, that one really good coffee he got from that one coffeeshop, the one Elise recommended to him. 

So surely it wouldn't hurt to make a quick stop, right? Xander parks his car outside the coffeeshop, leaving Siegbert’s gift behind on the passenger's seat. He remembers that the last time he came here, he bumped into Inigo, and he knows it’s a long shot but he makes a silly little wish that it’ll happen again anyway.

Sometimes the universe is kind and grants you your silly little wishes.

“Oh, hey!” Inigo says. “It’s you!”

Xander thinks he sees Inigo’s face light up at the sight of him, and it almost makes him feel hopeful it’s a sign that Inigo may actually return his feelings, but pushes those thoughts down, telling himself it’s just Inigo’s friendly personality, and makes his way to the counter where Inigo stands.

“Hello,” Xander says. He notices that Inigo’s wearing the same kind of clothes from before. “Dance class again?”

“Yeah, I just came from one,” Inigo says. “Oh, in fact, I’m with my mom right now! She’s over there. Mom!”

The lady quietly sitting at a nearby table jumps at the sound of Inigo’s voice. She looks over her shoulder and sees the both of them, her gaze darting back and forth between Xander and Inigo, eyes blinking with surprise. She then has some sort of nonverbal communication done with her son through the use of various facial expressions, which Xander does not understand at all. Not quite knowing what to do, he simply waves at her. Inigo's mother waves back, a shaky smile on her face.

“Uh, so, anyway,” Inigo says, laughing awkwardly. “Do you and Siegbert have anything fun planned for Christmas break?”

That’s right, today was Siegbert’s last day of school before Christmas break started. Xander wished his own vacation would come as soon as well, but he still had a few more days of work. “Nothing, really, just the usual dinner with family,” he says.

“That’s nice,” Inigo says. “We’re going to Disneyland. Soleil’s been wanting to go forever, so we’ve been saving for a long time. We’re going tomorrow, actually! And I don’t want to bring schoolwork to check with me to Disney so I’m going to try to finish all my work tonight. Uh, I’m going to try to finish as much as I can, that is. I hope I finish it all. Which is why I need coffee! It’s… going to be a long night.” He sighs.

“Disneyland, huh?” Xander says. “I hope you have a good time.”

“Yeah! To be honest, I’m actually as excited as Soleil is,” Inigo admits bashfully.

“Coffee for Inigo!”

Behind the counter, the barista is holding up a coffee cup with both hands, a determined look on her face, as if she’s trying her best not to drop it. “Inigo” with a tiny drawing of a flower is written on it. “Sorry it took so long! I, uh, kept messing it up, so I had to redo it four times.”

Inigo smiles at her. “It’s fine, Felicia. Thank you.” He takes a sip. “Ah, perfect as usual. Oh! I need to introduce you to my friend. Felicia, this is Xander. Xander, this is Felicia. Or… should I say…” he gives Felicia a devilish grin. “SEVERA’S NEW GIRLFRIEND?!”

“Eek!” Felicia’s cheeks turn pink, and she holds her face in her hands. “Why do you have to tell everyone!”

“Aw, it’s because I’m so happy for you!” Inigo says, laughing. “You remember Severa, right, Xander? She was the one working when you first came here. They’re dating now! And they’re so cute together.”

“W-Well… Thanks, Inigo…” Felicia says, still blushing. “Oh! But I still need to take your order! Hello, sir, how may I help you today!”

“Oh, uh,” Xander says, startled. “I’ll have, the… the…” He turns to Inigo helplessly.

Inigo raises a brow, grinning at him lopsidedly. “You want the one you had last time, but can’t remember it?”

Xander nods. Inigo laughs good-naturedly before turning to Felicia and ordering coffee for him. Xander pays and Felicia goes off to make his order.

“Want to sit with me and my mom while you wait for your coffee?” Inigo asks. Xander nods again and says sure. Inigo leads him over to where the lady sitting nearby earlier was, his hand on Xander’s back. “Mom! This is Xander.”

“Oh… hello! I’ve heard so much about you!” Inigo’s mother says. Inigo lightly elbows her, frowning. “What?” she hisses at him, loud enough for Xander to hear. “I didn’t say anything!”

“Hello, ma’am,” Xander says. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I hope I’m not intruding.”

“Of course not, it’s fine. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well. Oh, and you can just call me Olivia,” she says, giggling, and she tugs Inigo’s sleeve and whispers something into his ear. Inigo goes red in the face. Xander wonders what she told him.

They sit down. Xander fiddles with the receipt of his coffee in his hands, trying not to think about how close Inigo is right now, and how he could just reach out and put his hand on his on the table, just like how Inigo did last Saturday when they were alone. But he doesn’t, because it would weird Inigo out and also his mom is right there in front of them.

“I meant to say thank you for driving my family home last time,” Olivia says. “You’re really too nice to Inigo. Would you, ah, maybe like to come over for dinner sometime?”

Xander feels Inigo tense up a little beside him. “It would be an honor, though only if Inigo’s all right with it as well,” he says, glancing at him.

“O-Of course it would be okay with me!” Inigo says defensively.

Xander looks at him, confused. “Oh. Okay.”

He wonders what happened to Inigo’s mood. Was it something he said? Or does he have a problem with Xander having dinner with them, despite his own protest? Or does he secretly hate Xander after all? Inigo was avoiding eye contact with him, just looking down at the table and sipping his coffee.

Olivia looked between them. “Did I do something wrong?” she asked worriedly. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to…”

“Coffee for Xander!”

“That’s mine,” Xander says, getting up. “Well, thank you for the company. It was nice seeing you here, Inigo. And you, too, Olivia.”

“Xander, wait—“ Inigo says, holding onto his arm. Xander stops.

“Yes?” he asks softly.

“I—“ Inigo says. He bites his lip. “I don’t have a problem. With you.” He peeks up at him under his lashes. “O-Okay?”

Xander blinks. His eyes go to Inigo’s hand on his arm, then back to him. “Okay.” He gives him a reassuring smile.

Inigo pauses, staring at him, as if in a daze, his hand still on his arm, and Xander’s about to ask him what’s wrong before he’s cut off by Felicia’s yelling.

“Coffee for Xander! Is Xander here! Your coffee’s ready!”

Inigo lets go of his arm. “Sorry,” he says, turning his face away. Is he blushing? Xander can’t see. If he is, it’s probably only out of embarrassment.

“It’s fine,” Xander says. He goes to get his coffee.

“Oh, there you are,” Felicia says, smiling. “Here’s your order. And I only had to make it three times before I got it right! I think I’m actually getting better at this.”

“Thank you,” he says, grabbing his cup. “Zander” with a smiley face is scribbled on it in neat, dainty handwriting. Xander decides not to say anything about the spelling. He’s used to it.

Coffee in hand, he waves at Inigo and Olivia goodbye as he leaves the coffeeshop. Inigo waves back with a weak smile, and before Xander goes out the door he catches Olivia murmuring something to her son and Inigo’s exasperated _“Mom!”_ after.

 

* * *

 

“Papa!” Siegbert yells, hugging Xander’s legs the moment he comes into view. With a grin, Xander crouches down to Siegbert’s level to embrace him properly.

“Hello, Siegbert,” Xander says. “I’m sorry I took so long today. What did you do while waiting for me?”

“I watched a movie with Auntie Corrin and Uncle Silas,” Siegbert answers. “They have a lot of Disney DVDs! And Uncle Silas cried.”

“Because your Uncle Silas is a big baby,” Corrin says, snickering.

“Hey! There’s nothing wrong with crying,” Silas says. “And the part with Stitch all alone in the rain with the ducks is so sad…”

“I have something for you,” Xander tells Siegbert, holding up the paper bag containing Siegbert’s gift.

“For me?” Siegbert asks, wide-eyed, taking hold of the bag. It was quite heavy, so Siegbert set it on the ground, but still kept hold of the handle. “A gift from Papa?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“But it’s not Christmas yet,” Siegbert says with a tilt to his head.

“It’s for your report card,” Xander says, ruffling Siegbert’s hair. “You never told me what you wanted for your good grades, so I got you something myself.”

“Oh!” Siegbert says. “Thank you, Papa.” He peeks into the bag, then lays it down flat on the floor so that he could slide the heavy contents out of it with ease. It was a wide, brown case.

“Oh my god. I can’t believe you got your baby son a briefcase,” says Corrin. “Is this your weird way of saying you want him to follow in your footsteps—“

“Corrin,” Silas says, giving her a pointed look.

“It is _not_ a briefcase,” Xander says, heaving deeply. “Go on, Siegbert, open it.”

Siegbert undoes the latch and flips the case open. He gasps when he sees what’s inside: rows of colored pencils, markers, and oil pastels, and even a set of watercolor paints and brushes in different sizes.

Xander smiles at his son’s reaction. “Do you like it?”

Siegbert lifts his head to Xander, a huge grin on his face. “Yes! Thank you so much, Papa!”

“Hey,” Corrin says, kneeling down to get a better look at Siegbert’s new gift. “I had something like this when I was a kid, too!”

“Yes, but this one is nicer than the one you had because I bought the nicest brand there is,” Xander says.

“Thank you, Papa,” Siegbert says again. “This is much better than the Crayola set with the sharpener in the back!”

“I also had that!” Corrin says. “I was coolest kid in school.”

“Mr. Inigo told me that you had a talent for drawing,” Xander tells Siegbert. “So I figured you would like something like this.”

“Really?” Siegbert says. “Then I’ll say thank you to Mr. Inigo next time!”

“That would be very nice of you,” Xander says.

“I think my roast’s almost done,” Silas says. “Why don’t you and Siegbert eat dinner with me and Corrin, Xander? There’s enough chicken for all of us.”

“Well, it is getting late…” Xander says. “Sure, we’ll stay for dinner.”

 

 

 

Later, after everyone’s finished eating and Xander and Siegbert have said their goodbyes, Xander brings Siegbert straight to bed once they get home. 

“Papa?” Siegbert asks when Xander tucks him into bed.

“Yes, Siegbert?”

“My tooth is moving.” He opens his mouth to show Xander his front teeth. “Why, Papa? I swear I brush my teeth properly.”

Xander smiles fondly. “That’s normal, Siegbert. They’re your baby teeth. They’re supposed to fall out.”

“They’re going to fall out?” Siegbert says, worried.

“Yes, but they’ll grow back again. It's sign that you're getting bigger,” Xander says wistfully, and pats his head.

“Can I ask you something else, Papa?”

“Of course, Siegbert,” Xander says.

Siegbert yawns. “Do you want to marry Mr. Inigo?”

That stops Xander in his tracks. “Wh-Where did you get that idea?”

Siegbert shifts into a more comfortable position. “Well, Soleil said she’s going to Disneyland with her family, and then I said I wish I could come too, and then Soleil said ‘then you should tell your daddy to marry my daddy so you can be part of my family and come with us, duh’.”

Xander furrows his brows, remembering that Inigo did say something about going to Disneyland earlier. “Oh,” he mutters. He smoothes down Siegbert’s hair on his forehead. “We can go to Disneyland next time, Siegbert.” It’s not like they can’t afford it or anything.

“Oh, but it would’ve been more fun with Soleil,” Siegbert says.

“We could…” Xander starts, “we could go with your cousin and all your aunts and uncles, that would be fun, too, right?”

“Oh, yeah, you’re right.” He yawns again. “Good night, Papa.”

“Good night, Siegbert.” Xander kisses Siegbert’s temple, turns the bedside lamp off, and leaves the room without making a sound.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I may have inserted a Star Wars reference in there..... anyway, see ya guys in another 2 weeks B-)
> 
> (BTW oh my gosh happy advanced Independence Day to all my fellow Filipinos!!)
> 
> tumblr [@transientvision](http://transientvision.tumblr.com)


	4. Realizations (and Coffee)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Has anyone noticed how weird the term marxlow is? Like... it's marx...and laslow...marx the japanese name...and laslow the localized name....it's kinda bothering me (unless marxlow meant karl marx/laslow all along)

Christmas and New Year’s pass in a blur, and before Xander knew it vacation was over and he was back to going to work everyday. It meant more meetings and more paperwork and more stress, but it did also mean driving Siegbert to school and seeing Inigo in the mornings, so maybe it was all okay.

Xander opens the door to Siegbert’s classroom, his son’s hand in his. Siegbert goes off to put away his stuff, and Xander goes up to Inigo to greet him good morning.

“Hey!” Inigo says. “How are you? How was Christmas?”

Christmas was spent at his father’s house with the rest of his family, as it is every year, and in turn dinner was quiet and conversation was stilted. A corporate business meeting might’ve been livelier. Garon retiring to his room to go to bed early on account of his aching back was the only time when anybody started having fun.

“It was fine,” Xander says. “Nothing out of the ordinary. How was Disneyland?”

“It was so fun!” Inigo says. “Soleil finally achieved her life-long dream of having her picture taken with Elsa.”

“Oh, that’s nice,” Xander says. He doesn’t know who Elsa is and he doesn’t ask. Nor does he mention that his daughter suggested to his son that they get married.

“It was. And she rode Space Mountain with my dad, like, six times… I don’t know how he handles it in his age,” Inigo says. “Hey, there was something I wanted to ask you, by the way? It’s kind of not important, but, I dunno.”

“Sure,” Xander says, “what is it?”

“Well,” Inigo says, fiddling his fingers. “You haven’t accepted my request yet?”

Xander frowned and tilted his head in confusion. “Excuse me?”

“My request,” Inigo repeats. “FB request?”

Xander shakes his head, blinking. “I’m sorry?”

“… Facebook,” Inigo says. “I sent you a friend request on Facebook. I mean, I’m pretty sure it was your account. Your DP was your face.”

“Oh. Oh, yes, Facebook,” Xander says. He doesn’t know what DP means. “The blue one.”

“There are a lot of blue websites, actually,” Inigo says.

“Oh,” Xander says. “I’m sorry. I don’t really check my Facebook account. My sister just made one for me and then I mostly forgot about it.”

“Wow," Inigo says, amused. “You’re my age, but you’re such a grandpa. Even more so than Soleil’s grandpa! I know that because your birthday was on your Facebook, by the way. B-But I didn’t stalk you or go through your pictures or anything! My eyes just happened to land on the part that said your birthday!”

“Oh. Is that bad?” Xander asks. “The grandpa part. I know stalking is bad.”

“What? No!” Inigo says fondly. “It’s cute.”

Xander’s frown deepened. Cute? He found that hard to believe. Nobody has ever called him cute before. Well, maybe, when he was three years old, but he is not three years old. Xander is the scion of a very powerful, very wealthy family, set to inherit one of the biggest corporations in the country. Also he is very tall and has a scary face that scares the interns.

“Are you pouting? Are you pouting because I called you cute?” Inigo says. “Oh my gosh, you just went from old man to toddler.” He laughs. He has a nice laugh. It does the same thing to Xander as his nice smiles do.

Xander grumbles, both confused with his feelings and upset but in a petty way because he’s being made fun of. But he figures that if Inigo finds it funny enough to laugh, he could let it go.

Soon enough it was time for Xander to leave, and he went up to Siegbert to give him a little goodbye kiss before going out the door, waving back at Inigo as he did. He drives to his office, a little bit late, as is the usual these days.

When his lunch break comes, Xander remembers his earlier conversation with Inigo in the morning, and brings up Facebook on his phone. It takes him a while to recall his password before he realizes that it’s probably just the same as the password he uses for every other account (which was correct). He’s got an awful lot of notifications, the result of not logging in for months. He’s been tagged in several posts; Xander clicks on one by Camilla, the most recent one. It’s a photoset from Christmas, after Garon left the room and the real party started.

Xander smiles at one particular picture, of Siegbert looking up to him with a big grin while sitting on his lap, and him laughing warmly at his son. It must have been candid, since he didn’t know Camilla had taken such a photo. He saves the picture on his phone.

Then he remembers what he went on Facebook for, and checks his friend requests. Inigo had sent him one. It’s a month old; he must’ve sent it when they were starting to get to know each other better. He clicks on the “confirm” button, and, out of curiosity, goes to Inigo’s Facebook page.

His cover photo is of him and Soleil both wearing big, heart-shaped sunglasses. His most recent posts were filtered pictures of his coffee, shoes, the like. He’s just casually checking up on him, see what he’s been up to lately. Like normal friends do.

And then Xander sees it. Not because he was looking for it in particular, but because, uh. His eyes just happened to land on the part that says it. 

_Relationship status: Single_.

Xander almost does a double take. He reads it again. And again. Inigo is single. What do you know, the thing he’s been silently agonizing over about could’ve been just been solved by going on Facebook, this easily. Technology is a beautiful thing.

Still. Inigo is single.

If anyone who had passed by that moment tells you that Xander de Nohr, son of Garon and heir of the company, broke out into the dreamiest expression ever, Xander will vehemently deny it. 

 

* * *

  

Xander goes to Corrin's apartment later that day to fetch Siegbert. A jittery Silas opens the door with a wavering smile, and Xander’s about to ask him if he’s all right before Siegbert comes in from inside and greets Xander with a hug.

“Hello there,” Xander says. “You ready to go?”

“Yes, Papa,” Siegbert answers. “Let me go get my stuff!” He then panders off to get his bag.

“Corrin went to the store,” Silas says. “We, uh. Ran out of milk.”

“I see,” Xander says. “Silas… Is something wrong? You seem nervous.”

“Right. Right.” Silas breathes in. “There was actually something I… wanted to talk to you about. Is that okay? If you’re in a hurry or something, that’s okay, there’s always next time—“

“Silas, it’s fine,” Xander says, holding up his hands, trying to get him to calm down. “I have time to talk. Don’t worry.”

Silas exhales in relief. “Oh. Oh, okay, good.”

Xander puts his hand on Silas’s back and leads him into the kitchen, where they could get some privacy. “Siegbert,” he calls out behind him, “me and Uncle Silas are just going to talk for a little while, do you mind waiting?”

“It’s okay, Papa!”

“Now,” Xander says, leaning against the counter top. “What is it?”

“I… uh, wow, I don’t know how to say this,” Silas says, scratching the back of his head and laughing. Then he clears his throat and squares his shoulders, putting a look of determination on. “Anyway. Here goes. I am proposing.”

“Proposing,” Xander says, confused. He raises a brow. “To… me? What—“

“No!” Silas cries. He looks horrified. “God, no, oh my god. I’m proposing to Corrin!”

“Oh,” Xander says absentmindedly. That makes sense, he thinks. Then it clicks. “Oh! Silas, that’s wonderful!”

“Really? You think so?” Silas says. “Oh, thank god. I was actually going to ask you for your blessing, because, well, you’re her older brother, and you’ve always been sort of a dad to her too, since Garon is such a dick.” (Xander hums in agreement.) “Anyway, I was just thinking… you know, me and Corrin have been together long enough, we even already live together, why not? I mean, if you think about it, you never really know what comes next. Maybe something could happen, and I’d lose my chance. It’s best to show how you feel now, when you can, right?”

“That is true, I guess,” Xander says. Silas did have a point. “And of course you have my blessing. Corrin loves you. And I know you love her too. I’ve never seen anyone so loyal and dedicated to another person. Remember when the both of you were in high school? When Corrin tried to sneak out?”

Silas nods. “When she found out about her birth family, and wanted to visit them, except Garon didn’t want her to so she had to go secretly.”

“Yes,” Xander says. “She thought nobody knew she was going, but I did. Of course Corrin is a strong girl and she could handle herself, but at the time she was only fifteen and the city streets aren't exactly safe at near-midnight, so I got worried. And I couldn’t just leave the house like she did, so I asked _someone_ to follow her to make sure she was all right.”

“You asked me,” Silas says.

“Exactly,” Xander says. “And you jumped right at the call, doing what I told you to do immediately, because you were so worried about her, even though it meant putting yourself at risk as well.”

Xander remembered that night very well. Corrin had just found out that she was adopted when she met her friend Kaze, who recognized her and led her to her mother, Mikoto, and the rest of her other siblings. It was a messy, complicated time in their life, due to Garon’s insistence that Corrin stay away from her birth family, because the Hoshidos have had a long-time family rivalry with their own. It didn’t help that the non-profit charity organization the Hoshidos owned often butted heads with Nohr Corp. 

Lots of things happened, but it’s a story for another time. The important thing is that Corrin’s love for her de Nohr siblings and her desire to get to know her Hoshido ones won out in the end.

Silas smiles. “Thanks, Xander,” he says. “I don’t even know why I was worried. I guess the only thing I have to worry about now is whether Corrin’s going to say yes or not.”

“She’s going to say yes,” Xander assures him. “Like I said, Silas. She loves you. And I’m sure she would definitely appreciate the tax breaks.”

“Yeah. I know. I mean, I don’t doubt her, or anything, but,” Silas says, “I’m still pretty nervous, you know?”

“I understand,” Xander says, putting a reassuring hand on Silas’s shoulder. “You can do it.”

“Thank you. Really,” Silas says, and Xander knows he means it from the bottom of his heart. He’s always been that type of honest, sincere person. Xander is glad that Corrin has somebody like him.

It sticks in his mind for the rest of the day, as he holds Siegbert’s hand going out of the apartment building, as he’s driving the both of them home. His little sister is getting married. His little sister is all grown up now.

He also can’t stop thinking about what Silas said. You never really know what comes next. Something could happen and you’d lose your chance. It’s best to show how you feel _now._

He thinks of Inigo, and his feelings for him.

There’s no point in continuing to deny what he feels when it’s so glaringly obvious, when Inigo is the sun shining too brightly for Xander to ignore. When Inigo’s smile makes butterflies flutter in his stomach, or when Xander keeps finding himself wishing for more time to spend with him. How Inigo is kind, and brilliant, and warm, and he’s strong and he dances ballet and he genuinely cares for the students he teaches; how Xander is just simply drawn to him, how he wants to be close to him and get to know him more. He wants to learn Inigo’s favorite food and his favorite song; he wants to learn what kinds of things make him laugh, and he wants to be reason for that laughter.

_(Maybe you’ll cross paths with love again, maybe you won’t_ , his wife had said, in one of their last conversations together. _But when you do, promise me you won’t run away.)_

It hits him like a brick, once he finally accepts it.

 

* * *

 

On his lunch break the next day, Xander feels like wanting coffee. Specifically, coffee from the place where he often bumps into Inigo. (Granted, twice might not count as often, but honestly, who cares.)

(Primarily he wants their coffee because their coffee is good, but there's also that part of him hoping that he’ll see Inigo as well. It's kind of embarrassing, Xander thinks, but he's not denying anything anymore. What was it that Elise said before? Feelings being valid and important and he shouldn’t ignore them, or something like that.)

He steps out of the office building’s doors and into the street, making his way to the coffee shop. There’s a lot of people out, walking by briskly, lots of them in professional attire and some talking on their phones, nothing out of the ordinary considering the area. Xander slows down a bit when he thinks he sees a familiar blond head amongst all the rest.

The blond turns his head a little to the right and Xander can see his face better and—oh, it _is_ him.

“Leo!”

Leo stops, startled, and turns to find Xander (quite easily; Xander suspects that his height probably does make him stick out in the crowd). His face softens as he walks over to him.

“Xander,” Leo says.

“Hello, Leo,” Xander says. “What are you doing here?”

“I just got back from meeting a client,” Leo answers.

“Ah, I see,” Xander says. “You didn’t take your car?”

“It was nearby,” Leo explains. “And Takumi’s been telling me to get some exercise, anyway.”

“That's good. Nice to see he’s being a good influence on you,” Xander says. “I hope your meeting went well?”

“Oh, it did,” Leo says, waving a hand. “I’m very good at my job.”

Xander smiles. “Of course.”

Leo is a lawyer working in the city’s top law firms. Having skipped two years of school because of his stellar grades and academic achievements, he was able to go to law school earlier than most and graduate at a younger age. And be a top-notcher in the bar exams, no less. Xander was extremely proud of him.

“Well, it was good seeing you,” Leo said. “I must be going. Goodbye, Xander.”

Leo turns and starts walking away. Xander’s brow furrows. “Wait,” he calls out.

Leo stops again. “Yes?”

“Do you have anything planned right now?” Xander asks.

“No, not at the moment,” Leo says. “Why?”

“Have lunch with me,” Xander says.

Leo stares at him. “You want me to have lunch with you?” he asks slowly.

Xander sighs. “Come on, Leo. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?”

“We saw each other during Christmas,” Leo replies, raising an eyebrow.

“Yes, but I meant that it’s been a while since it was just the two of us,” Xander says. “There’s a good place I know. We can talk, catch up… That would be nice, wouldn’t it?”

Leo frowns slightly as he considers it. Xander hopes he says yes. In all honesty, he’s missed his brother. And he thinks they’re pissing off every person who walks by them because they’re standing right in the middle of the street.

“I’d like that,” Leo says at last.

Xander brings him to the coffeeshop. As he holds the door open for Leo to enter, he scans the shop searching for a familiar face. Xander doesn’t see him, and he can’t help the small twinge of disappointment in his gut. Such was life. At least he had the time to spend with his brother without distraction.

“Ah, I think I know this place,” Leo says. “Elise loved it here. She tells everyone about it. She even gave me a coupon. I never got to use it, though.”

“Oh, really?” Xander says. “She gave me one too.” He didn’t know that Elise told everyone else. He just assumed that Elise told only him, and it may have made him feel a little special, until now.

The barista is the same red-haired one the first time he came here, Inigo’s friend. “Hey,” she says in a sharp tone, instead of the usual friendly greeting you’d expect from someone behind the counter. “I know you.”

“Yes, I believe we’ve briefly met before,” Xander says. “I came here with Inigo once.”

“Yeah, that, but no,” Severa says. “Like, I _know you_. From… somewhere.”

Xander exchanges a side glance with Leo. Leo shrugs. “Okay,” Xander tells her, unsure. He clears his throat. “I don’t think I’ve introduced myself before?”—the memory of a coffee cup labelled “Tall guy with Jerkass Loser” comes to mind—“My name is Xander.”

“That’s it!” Severa says. “You’re Garon de Nohr’s son! I’m taking business for grad school, and I’m the best in my class, obviously, so I know all the important faces in the corporate world. Hey, tell me, something! Is Xander short for, like, Alexander? I’ve always wondered that.”

Xander tries not to grimace. Being recognized as his father’s son is inevitable, of course, but he’s not really fond of it. Especially when he’s just out trying to spend some time with family. But Xander has a lot of experience putting a mask on, so his discomfort did not show. Still, Leo gives him a sympathetic look, and Xander knows that he could sense his unease.

“It’s just Xander,” he replies stiffly.

“I see. Edgy,” Severa says. “Also, don’t think that I’m going to start sucking up to you now because of this. Anyway, I need to do my job. What will it be?"

Xander orders coffee for the both of them, encouraging Leo to try their glorious blend (at least, Xander hopes that he remembered the right kind to order, the one Inigo got for him before), and sandwiches for them to eat. They find a table and sit down.

After he takes a bite into his sandwich, Xander feels Leo staring at him from across the table. “What is it?”

“You said you wanted to talk,” Leo asks

“So I did,” Xander says. “How are you, Leo?”

“I’m fine.”

Xander gives him a look.

“What? You asked,” Leo says.

“All right, fine. Wrong question.” Xander sighs. He thinks for a moment. “How’s Takumi?”

“Oh, Takumi?” Leo says. “He’s doing great. He's really enjoying his job at his family's charity. He's also been thinking of signing up as an instructor part-time at the archery range he likes to go to, and I keep telling him that we don’t even the need the extra money but he says he wants to do it anyway, because it’s ‘fun’. He’s been trying to get Forrest into archery as well, and Forrest for the most part just goes along with it but I know he’s only doing it to not hurt Takumi’s feelings. Forrest would rather just stay at home. I see myself so much in him sometimes…”

Xander notices the small smile that graces Leo’s face—unknowingly, probably, knowing him—as he talks about his husband and son, and it’s touching to know that his brother’s life is all right. It’s nice to see Leo warm up to him, especially since they didn’t do this often. It was more of Camilla’s thing.

“Forrest is doing well, then, I presume?” Xander asks. “He seemed to have a lot of fun when Siegbert came over.”

“He is,” Leo answers happily. “I’m relieved that we’re rich, honestly speaking. Forrest wants so many dresses. And I have a hard time saying no to his adorable face. Takumi is worse."

Xander stirs his coffee. "I heard that you and Takumi are considering another child."

Leo blinks at him, and another person wouldn't really have noticed a change but Xander knows he's surprised. "We are," he says. "Where did you hear that?"

"Camilla told me," Xander says.

"I see," Leo says. He purses his lips as if there's something else he has to share, but says nothing.

"Have you and Takumi decided yet?" Xander asks.

"Well," Leo says. "I want to. Forrest has been talking of wanting a sibling. And I've seen the look on Takumi's face whenever we pick Forrest up and see him playing with the other kids. It... it would be nice."

"That's good," Xander says, a hint of a smile in his voice.

"Thanks," Leo says. "How is Siegbert, by the way?"

“He’s making friends at school,” Xander says, thinking of how Soleil played with him that day in the park. “His teacher was worried he’d have a hard time doing that. It’s good to see he’s getting by. But…”

Leo tips his head sideways in inquiry. “But what?”

Xander stops, and thinks of how to say this. “His teacher told me that he seems to have a low opinion of himself,” he says. “I… I think it’s my fault. I don’t really know what to do.”

“I see,” Leo says. “We were like that before, too, weren’t we?” Xander nods. “Look at me now. I overcame it.”

“But you were old enough then, Leo,” Xander says. “You were smart and mature enough to be able to pick yourself back up on your own. Siegbert’s just a little boy. He needs to be guided.”

“I think you should just try to reassure him that he's enough. That he doesn’t have to live up to anything. Especially now, while he's still young,” Leo says. "I would've been a bit better, I think, if I had that kind of support at his age. When you grow up living with it, it becomes harder to believe any good things others say about you.”

Xander takes all of this in. “Thank you, Leo. And I’m,” he pauses, “I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve to go through that. I’m sorry.”

“I know you are, Xander,” Leo says, a little softly.

Xander thinks about how far Leo has come from the wary, insecure teenager. His brother is one of the strongest people he knows, he thinks.

“Xander!” Severa calls from the counter. “For Xander!”

"I'll go get that,” Xander tells Leo, and he gets up to get their coffee. Xander thanks Severa when she hands the two cups over to him, and takes a sip from his just to make sure he did order the right kind. He did, and it tastes like heaven. Xander hums in content. And then he realizes that his coffee cup is labelled “Jerkass Loser’s tall rich friend”. He sighs.

“Kick that annoying loser Inigo in the shin for me the next time you see him, won’t ya?” Severa says. “You look pretty strong. I’m sure I won’t be disappointed.”

“I…” Xander says, not knowing where to start. “Well, Inigo does ballet, so he must have strong legs? He could probably take it.”

Of course, after saying that Xander’s mind immediately imagines what Inigo’s legs would look like. Lean and muscular, strong enough to hurt _him_ if he was kicked, oh, Xander thinks he would actually find that— _no_. No, this was not the time to be thinking about Inigo’s legs. Xander feels heat creeping up his neck, and he severely wishes that he wasn’t red in the face because Severa seems like the type of person to make fun of him for that, heir of one the country’s largest corporations or not.

“Eh,” Severa says, “just kick him somewhere else, then.”

With a bemused frown, Xander nods, if only to humor her. He had no intention of kicking Inigo anywhere at all, of course. He brings the coffee cups back to his table with Leo.

“So,” Leo says, lifting up a brow and leaning back on his chair with folded arms, as Xander sets down the cups on the table. “Who _is_ this Inigo person, anyway?”

Xander stops in the middle of sitting down, feeling warmth on his face again. Dear god, please, he wishes he isn’t blushing. Leo lifts his other brow in sick amusement. Oh no Xander definitely was blushing. “You heard that?”

“That girl was quite loud. Xander,” Leo says, leaning forward in interest with a smirk. His eyes glinted with pure malice. Xander gulps. “You must tell me about this… _friend_ of yours.”

This was not the type of conversation he was interested in having with his brother, Xander thought as he sits back down. It was hard enough having himself face the idea, and talking about it with Leo was worse. Awkward and embarrassing and the worst.

This is more of Camilla’s thing. Where was Camilla when you needed her?

“What? You got me to talk about my personal life. It’s your turn,” Leo says, stirring his coffee. “Well? Go on.”

“Why don’t you try your coffee?” Xander suggests. “Try your coffee. It’s very good.”

“Don’t try to change the subject, my dearest brother,” Leo says, but tastes his coffee anyway. His eyes widen by a fraction in pleasant surprise. “Good lord, this is the best coffee I’ve ever had.”

“I told you so,” Xander tells him so.

“Anyway,” Leo says sharply. “Back to the matter at hand.”

Xander sighs. “Leo, please.”

“You know I’m going to find out eventually, anyway,” Leo says. He taps the side of his head twice. “I’m very smart.”

Xander knows this. “Fine,” he says. “He’s… I… you know.” It’s hard to say it out loud. Xander’s face is still a bit hot.

“You have a crush on him,” Leo says.

“Please do not call it a crush,” Xander pleads. “I’m not in high school.”

“I wonder what your _crush_ is like, Xander?” Leo says. “It’s been so long since you’ve been interested in anyone. Please, do tell me about the lucky guy.”

Xander sighs, then he sits up straight once he realizes something. “Actually,” he says, “you could give me some advice.”

“You?” Leo says, narrowing his eyes at him. “Want advice from me? But… you’re Xander. You don’t ask for advice.”

“Well, I am,” Xander says. “And I’m still Xander. Just a little older now.” He takes another sip of his coffee.

“And you’re asking from me,” Leo says. “How the tables have turned.”

“Leo, you’re the one between us who has everything in his life together and is happily married,” Xander says.

“Oh my god,” Leo says. “You’re actually right. How did it come to this? I was such a mess.”

“You are not a mess,” Xander insists.

“Was. Past tense,” Leo says, though Xander still disagrees. “Anyway. Ugh. Fine. But just this once, all right? Please do not go on calling me later tonight as your own personal love guru and crying about how you like this guy so much. So what’s your problem?”

“Well, I… Well,” Xander says. “Well, I like him. I think I should tell him, but I don’t know.”

Leo drinks his coffee. “You should.”

“Oh… okay,” Xander says. “Is that all?”

“Yes,” Leo says. “You should tell him.”

“Leo,” Xander says.

“What?” Leo says. “It’s like you said. You’re not in high school. You are adults. This isn’t ‘oh, if I tell him it will ruin our friendship, boohoo’.”

“Okay,” Xander says. “I’m just not really good at this, really.”

“Xander, listen,” Leo says. “Do you remember how Takumi and I got together? There were years of pining. The both of us were too scared to admit that we liked each other. One day, I decided to say fuck it, and I confessed my feelings. I found out that Takumi had liked me back for a long time, and we got together. I always think about how if one of us had just had enough guts before that, we would’ve been together earlier, and for a longer time. I think about how if I never told him how I felt, or if he never did either, we wouldn’t be together at all.”

He didn’t know Leo felt like this. Come to think of it, the topic seemed a bit familiar. “Silas said something like that,” Xander says.

Leo snorts. “You asked him, too? What, are you going around and asking for love advice from everyone? Who’s next, my son?” Leo says. “Actually, from all the Disney movies he’s been watching, he probably does have strong opinions on love and romance already… Maybe you really should ask him.”

“I didn’t ask him, he just said it,” Xander says. “Thank you, Leo. I think I've made up my mind now, after listening to you.”

“Oh,” Leo says, blinking, like he couldn’t believe it. “You’re welcome, I guess.

Xander smiles.

Leo’s phone chimes from his pocket. He takes it out and reads the reminder on the screen. “Brotherly bonding time over,” he says. “I need to go back to work; I have a meeting soon.”

"Hey," Xander says, later, outside the coffeeshop, after they had finished the last of their sandwiches before getting up to leave, bringing their coffee with them. “Thank you for coming with me.”

“Don’t thank me,” Leo says. “It was actually nice.”

Xander smiles again. “I’ll see you around, Leo.” He turns to walk back to his office.

“Wait, Xander.” Leo grabs hold of his elbow. Xander turns back to him. “About what you said. Earlier. About me getting back on my feet, on my own. It’s not entirely true. I mean—I did, yes, but… I had people who held my hand through it all. And they made it easier to bear. You were one of them, Xander. I wanted you to know that.”

Xander puts his hand on Leo’s shoulder. “Thank you, Leo,” he says. “I’ll always be here for you, you know that. Me and all the rest.”

Leo smiles.

 

* * *

 

Inigo looks out the window to see all the kids playing outside during break time. Owain’s out there, letting the kids pretend-slay his dark persona or whatever, instead of doing the “boring” teacher stuff like checking papers, _again_.

(It’s not like it’s even hard or anything, they’re kindergarten teachers. All you gotta do is put stamps.)

He looks down at the activity papers he’s been checking, and sighs. He used to slack off in school and beg Lucina to let him copy her homework. Now he’s the one sitting here and doing his work, being responsible and doing things adults should do.

He turns to the window again, and notices something. Amongst all his classmates running around and playing on the see-saws and swing sets, Siegbert sits quietly under the shade of the tree, looking up at the sky with his chin in his hands, all by himself.

Inigo frowns. He looks for where Soleil was. She was too busy playing with Owain and the other kids to notice.

Inigo rummages through the pile of papers he hadn’t checked yet, and finds Siegbert’s. The kids had to draw who their hero was, and most drew (tried to draw) Ironman or Wonder Woman or The Flash or whoever. Inigo thought Siegbert would draw Captain America, because of his school bag, but instead Siegbert drew his father.

He takes the paper and goes outside. The grass crinkles softly under his feet as he walks over to Siegbert. Siegbert hears him approach and looks up at him. Inigo smiles.

“Hey,” Inigo says. “May I join you?”

“Um,” Siegbert says, “okay.”

Inigo sits down beside Siegbert, folding his legs under him. “So what’re you doing here all alone?” he asks. “Don’t you want to go play with the others?”

Siegbert lifts his head to the sky. “I like the clouds,” he says sheepishly.

“Oh,” Inigo says. He follows Siegbert’s line of sight. The clouds certainly are pretty today, big and snow-colored, looking as soft as cotton candy. “I can understand why.”

“One time we went to the beach, with all my aunties and uncles,” Siegbert says. “But me and Papa don’t like swimming, so Papa sat down with me and he showed me that you can see things in the clouds sometimes. Do you see that one, Mr. Inigo?” he points at one cloud. “It looks like a spaceship.”

Inigo tilts his head. “I dunno, it looks more like a horse to me.”

Siegbert tilts his head the same way Inigo was doing. “Oh, yeah, you’re right.”

“Siegbert, there's something else I wanted to talk to you about,” Inigo says. He brings out Siegbert’s paper.

Siegbert leans over to look at it. “Oh, this is mine,” he says. His face turns worried. “Oh, no, did I do it wrong? I’m sorry.”

“No, no, you did a good job,” Inigo says. “I just wanted to ask you why you drew your dad. It's different from the others, that’s all.”

“Um, it’s because Papa is strong,” Siegbert says. “And he’s smart and brave and nice and, and he knows how to do lots of things. Oh, and tall! Very tall.”

“I see,” Inigo says. “So you want to be like him when you grow up?”

“Mm-hmm,” Siegbert says, nodding. “Other people tell me that I should be like him, too, like my grandpa. But he says it’s hard to be like Papa, so I have to work very hard.”

Oh. Inigo's brow furrows. “Your grandpa?”

Siegbert nods. “He's scary, but I have to listen to him,” Siegbert says. “Papa told me he’s scared of him, too, but Papa still always does whatever Grandpa tells him to do.”

Inigo frowns. He remembers Siegbert’s words from before, when he gave him a drawing as a present. His grandfather seemed to be pushing him to become someone he was not, and Siegbert felt that he wasn’t good enough for the expectations set on him.

“Siegbert, listen to me,” Inigo says. “It’s good to have a role model, like your dad, but you shouldn’t force yourself to be like him too much. Remember that it’s also important to just be yourself, okay?”

“But I don’t want to be just myself, Mr. Inigo,” Siegbert says. “I want to be strong and big like Papa.”

“You _are_ strong, Siegbert,” Inigo says. “Your father is your father and you’re you. And you know what, I think you’re really lucky to be you. You’re a cool kid, Siegbert.”

There’s a tiny frown on Siegbert’s face, as if he’s unsure. “Really?”

“Uh-huh,” Inigo says. “You said your dad’s smart, but you are too! You always know the answer when I call on you in class. And you’re very kind. I’ve never seen you be mean to any of the other kids. Not just that—you’re also very talented! I really did mean it when I said your drawings were good before. See, Siegbert? Cool kid.”

Siegbert smiles shyly. “Thank you, Mr. Inigo,” he says. “I feel better now.”

“That’s good,” Inigo says. “You know, it won’t hurt to go be with your classmates for once. Most of them are really friendly. You liked playing with Soleil, right?”

“I guess. Soleil’s nice, I like her,” Siegbert says. “Playing’s nice, too, sometimes, but I just wanna sit here for now.”

Inigo looks at him. “All right,” he says. “I understand.”

“You’re really nice, too, Mr. Inigo,” Siegbert says. “I like you a lot!”

“Awww,” Inigo says. That’s adorable. “Thank you, Siegbert.”

Siegbert giggles. “You’re welcome, Mr. Inigo—ah!” He bends over, holding his hands over his mouth.

Inigo moves quickly, putting his hand on Siegbert's shoulder, ready to help him. “Siegbert? What’s wrong? Are you hurt?” 

Siegbert lowers his hands, and, in the cup of his palm, was a single tooth. “Oh,” Siegbert says. He looks up at Inigo, and he sees the gap where his left front tooth should be. “My tooth. It fell out while I was talking.”

“Oh, is that all?” Inigo says. “It didn’t hurt, right?”

“No, but it feels weird now!” Siegbert runs his tongue over the bare toothless gum and makes a face.

“It’ll grow back,” Inigo assures him.

“That’s what my Papa said, too,” Siegbert says. “If teeth can grow, are they like plants, then, Mr. Inigo? If I put my tooth in the ground will it grow into a tooth plant?”

“No, but if you put your tooth under your pillow tonight, the tooth fairy might come and give you some money in exchange,” Inigo says.

“Really?” Siegbert says. “Can I go back into the classroom so I can put my tooth somewhere safe, Mr. Inigo?”

“Sure,” Inigo says, and Siegbert goes to run back into the classroom.

He sighs, hoping that Siegbert would remember the words he'd told him today. It was heartbreaking to see someone as young as him have such little belief in himself. He tells himself that Xander was a good parent who really loved his son, and would do his best to help Siegbert. But Inigo was his teacher, and so he felt a responsibility to do his part as well.

“Daddy!” he hears Soleil’s voice say.“Do you want to join us?”

“Hah!” Owain says, in his Odin Dark voice. “You fools think gaining help from this small, petty man would help you defeat me?! THINK AGAIN!”

“Small”? _“Petty”?_ Ugh, just because Owain’s the buff one. Inigo smirks. “Oh, it is so on,” he says, and grabs a stick from the ground and points it at Owain’s face. “My name is Laslow of the Indigo Skies! You insulted my honor! Prepare to be defeated by my magic dancing skills!”

(Killing and actual violence aren’t really good things to be encouraged for kindergarteners. Magic dancing skills will have to do.)

 

* * *

 

The sun had just set, and Xander was driving them home. “You seem really happy, Siegbert,” he comments, after he sees Siegbert from the rearview mirror, sitting in the backseat smiling widely to himself and humming a cheerful tune.

“I am, Papa!” Siegbert says. “Today was fun. And Mr. Inigo was really nice. Also, my tooth fell out.”

“Yes, Siegbert, you’ve told me that,” Xander says, smiling. “You really like Inigo, don’t you?”

“I do,” Siegbert says. “Mr. Inigo’s the best! He’s nice and funny and he’s always smiling. And he teaches us fun songs and sometimes he even dances with us!”

“Oh, really?” Xander says. “Did you know that Mr. Inigo’s mother is a ballet teacher, and that sometimes he helps her teach too?”

“Really? Wow!” Siegbert says. “Mr. Inigo is so cool! How did you know that, Papa?”

“We talk a lot, remember? Sometimes I bump into him outside of school,” Xander says.

“You know me and Mr. Inigo talked together, too, today!” Siegbert says. “He said a lot of nice things to me.”

“Really? Like what?” Xander says.

“Stuff like being myself. Mr. Inigo said I should because he thinks I’m strong and smart,” Siegbert says. “Um, by the way, Papa, I’m not bragging, I’m just telling you what Mr. Inigo told me.”

“I didn’t think you were, Siegbert,” Xander says. His heart lightened at Siegbert’s words—both at his son’s humble statement and how Inigo tried cheering him up. He remembers his conversation with Leo. “I think you’re really strong and smart, too.”

“R-Really, Papa?” Siegbert says, a hint of pleased disbelief in his tone.

“I wouldn’t lie to you, you know that. And I just don’t think you’re strong and smart, I know you are,” Xander says. “But the question is, do _you_ think you are?”

“Me?” Siegbert says. “Um… I don’t know, Papa.”

Xander frowns. "What do you mean, you don’t know?”

“I… I don’t know,” Siegbert says. “I'm sorry.”

“There’s no need to say sorry, Siegbert. It’s all right,” Xander says, sighing.

“Okay,” Siegbert says. “But, um, Papa, I feel better because of you now, though. Mr. Inigo, too, during recess, but I like it better when you say it.”

Xander stops the car at the red light, and turns around in his seat to look at Siegbert properly. He smiles warmly at him. “I’m glad, then,” he says. “If you need anyone to talk to when you’re sad, I’m here, all right?”

Siegbert blinks at him, then his lips turn into a big, grateful grin. “Okay, Papa.”

Xander remembers nights spent cold and lonely as a young boy, all of the pressure, expectation, and fear of his father building up inside him, because he didn’t want to burden others with his own problems. For so long he kept it in, all of it, and it felt like poison coursing throughout his body. He wanted so much to let it out, to talk to someone, but whenever Camilla or Corrin or anyone else offered to listen to him he shut them away, believing that they would think he was weak if they knew. Nights spent with thoughts of _what is wrong with me, I thought I wanted to tell someone, what is wrong with me,_ running again and again in his mind.

Leo was right, he thinks. It gets worse when it grows up with you. Xander never wanted Siegbert to experience that.

Then the car behind them’s loud horn blares, and Xander snaps back to reality. The light’s turned green.

“Papa, are you okay?” Siegbert asks, worried, as Xander hastily puts the car back in motion.

“Yes, yes, I’m fine,” Xander says. “Sorry.”

The drive is quiet then, for a while. The whole time Xander wonders if he should do something more, if there are more words needed to be said. If there were, what would he say? Does he say more things like “I’m proud of you, son”? Would too much be too weird and make Siegbert think he was up to something? Where the hell was Leo or Camilla or Elise or Corrin or anyone else who would handle this situation better than he could?

“Hey, Papa,” Siegbert says, bringing him out of his thoughts. “I have another question. Are you and Mr. Inigo like best friends?”

“Huh?” Xander says. “Oh, well. We’re friends, but I don’t know about _best_ friends. Why are you asking?” Maybe to a five year-old talking to someone a lot for a few months made you best friends.

“Um, I dunno," Siegbert says. “I think you like him.”

Xander turns left at the intersection. "I do like him,” he says. “I like him a lot, actually.”

“Oh," Siegbert says. "Do you... like-like him, Papa?”

Xander smiles a little. “Like-like”. He doesn't think he’s heard stuff like that since grade school. “I guess I do,” he says. “Are… Are you okay with that?” Xander has to stop himself from biting his lip. What would he do if Siegbert was bothered by it? It’ll all have to stop there, then, and Xander will have to just make himself forget. He’ll be a bit sad, sure, but he doesn’t want to make Siegbert uncomfortable.

(A small, selfish part of him desperately wants Siegbert to approve.)

“Of course, Papa! Yes!” Siegbert says, and Xander’s heartbeat quickens in excitement at Siegbert's enthusiastic tone. 

“Really, now?” Xander says.

“Yes!” Siegbert says. “And then you and him can get married, right?”

Xander’s face heats up. “Oh, well, that’s only if he also, ah, likes me back. _Really_ likes me back.”

“I think he likes you, too, Papa,” Siegbert says. “Mr. Inigo’s always all smiley when you’re around.”

“But Mr. Inigo already is always… smiley,” Xander says.

“Yeah, but he’s even MORE smiley with you, Papa!” Siegbert says.

“Oh,” Xander says. “You really think so?”

“I don’t just think so, Papa, I know so,” Siegbert says, giving him a wide, tooth-gapped grin. Xander actually laughs a little at the sight, and wishes he could get a better look than just the rearview mirror. He’s definitely going to take a picture of that later, he tells himself.

 

 

 

Xander sighs to himself in relief as he sits down on the couch and switches on the TV with the remote. He’s greeted with Spongebob’s laughter on Nickelodeon once it’s on, from when Siegbert was watching those baby cartoons before, and Xander cringes at the squeaky yellow sponge voice. He immediately changes the channel to the news.

It’s late at night, Siegbert’s already asleep, and Xander’s finished his work for the day. He’ll just watch a few minutes of the news, and he’ll allow himself to go to sleep.

His phone pings from where it was on the coffee table, the screen glowing brightly in the dark room. Xander picks it up and sees that it’s a Messenger notification, and almost does a double-take when he sees it’s from Inigo. He smiles, and slides the notification with his thumb to view it.

(His Messenger app is new, because there wasn’t one yet the last time he was on Facebook. He discovered that he had lots of messages in his inbox, and guiltily replied to most of them “Sorry, I only saw this just now” or a variation thereof. So far the only person who’s messaged him in the past few days was Elise, who had sent him “YOU’RE ONLINE?!?!?!” along with a long string of small pictures. Xander doesn’t remember what you call them.)

**Inigo  
**        Hey! You actually accepted my friend request haha

The smile stays on his face as he types his reply.

**Xander  
**        I guess I did.

 **Inigo  
** Since you took so long the suspense made me excited to see what kind of stuff you’ve posted  
But all your posts turned out to be boringg :(((

**Xander  
** I’m sorry.

 **Inigo  
** Nah Im just kidding ur cool af haha  
Btw I told Siegbert about the tooth fairy so do you mind putting a quarter or something under his pillow tonight if you find his tooth there?

 **Xander  
** Of course.  
Oh, by the way, I wanted to thank you. Siegbert told me what you did for him today.

 **Inigo  
** Oh he did?  
No need to thank me :))  Just doing my job  
Though actually, I do care about my students beyond being a teacher, Siegbert included. Hes such a sweetheart!! <3

**Xander  
** I know, and I admire that about you.

**Inigo  
** Aaaaah oh my gosh thank you.  I feel so embarrassed rn hahaha

It comes to Xander’s attention that he could just ask Inigo out right here and now, because there’s nothing stopping him, really. Leo and Silas, two people he find incredibly trustworthy, both think he should go for it, and he’s got Siegbert’s encouragement as well. 

(But he still decides to play it a little safe, anyway.)

**Xander  
** I was thinking that I should pay you back somehow, for everything you’ve done for Siegbert.  
Maybe I can treat you to some coffee?

The moment he hits send, Xander tosses his phone to the side and throws a pillow over it, completely embarrassed and too scared to see what Inigo would say. He feels very, very silly after doing so.

The phone pings. With his thumb and forefinger Xander gingerly lifts the pillow by the corner and gets his phone, biting his lip while doing so.

**Inigo  
** Like……a date?  
Xander de Nohr, are you actually asking me out?????

Oh god oh no what does he say, what does he say.

**Xander  
** Only if you want it to be.

Smooth.

**Inigo  
** Actually

The three dots signalling that Inigo is typing come up. The three dots disappear for a few seconds, appear again, then disappear once more, for longer this time. It is the worst feeling ever. What’s taking him so long to decide what to say? That’s it, Xander messed up, everything is ruined, it’s all his fault, why did he do this, why did he think that—

**Inigo**  
I would like that very much :))

Xander blinks down at his phone’s screen, mouth slightly open in a small ‘o’. Is this real. Is he dreaming.

**Inigo  
** Tomorrow 5 pm a good time for you?

Xander immediately switches apps to his calendar to check. Tomorrow’s Saturday, which was fine.

**Xander  
** Yes, that would be okay.

 **Inigo  
** Okay :)  
I’ll meet you in the coffeeshop then?

**Xander  
** Sure, if we’re thinking of the same coffeeshop.

 **Inigo  
** Well what other coffeeshop is there?? Haha  
  
**Xander  
** I’ll see you tomorrow, then?

 **Inigo  
** Yeah see you!! 

Xander can’t help the huge grin spreading on his face; it hurts his cheeks a bit but he doesn’t mind. When was the last time he was so excited over something like this? When was the last time something like this even happened?

(Of course he remembers—he’d never forget. But it’s been so long. It’s nice to feel this way about someone again.)

Inigo said yes. Inigo is interested in him. He’s going to have coffee with Inigo. No, not just coffee—a date. He’s going on a date with Inigo. Xander’s actually giggling to himself and he feels stupidly giddy, too giddy, and he hasn’t felt like this in so long.

But Xander can’t just leave Siegbert alone in the house. He could ask Corrin, but Corrin already watches over Siegbert too much and Xander doesn’t really want to bother her and Silas any further. Xander brings up Camilla’s contact on Messenger.

**Xander  
** Hello, Camilla. Can I ask you for a favor?

 **Camilla  
** Xander?  
You’re actually using your Facebook?

 **Xander  
** Yes.  
But really can I ask you something?

**Camilla  
** Sure.

**Xander  
** Do you think you could watch over Siegbert for a while for me tomorrow? Just for a while. An hour or two. I’m sorry for asking on such short notice. If you can’t do it,it’s okay.

**Camilla  
** Of course! I’d love to babysit him  ❤️

 **Xander  
** Really? Thank you so much. I really appreciate it. I’m very sorry again about this. I hope I’m not bothering you.

 **Camilla  
** You’re not bothering me at all. I love you and Siegbert both.  
Though I only want to ask what you’ll be doing tomorrow, out of curiosity

**Xander ****  
** I have a meeting with someone.

**Camilla  
** Oh, really? Who is this someone? Are they from work?

**Xander  
** No, just a friend.

 **Camilla  
** A friend  
Really

**Xander  
** Yes.

 **Camilla  
** Really, Xander.

 **Xander  
** Yes, Camilla.

 **Camilla  
** Xander  
I want details.

 **Xander  
** I am meeting with a friend tomorrow at 5 PM in a coffeeshop.

 **Camilla  
** Xanderrrrr  
Tell me!!  
Is it a date?  
Xander why are you not replying?  
Oh my god it's a date isn't it

 **Xander **  
** ** Okay, okay, fine.  
Yes. I have a date.

 **Camilla  
** Oh my god  
My older brother going on dates again  
You’ve grown so much, I’m so proud of you

**Xander  
** Cam, no.

 **Camilla  
** Okay but I really am happy for you  
Have fun on your date okay?

 **Xander  
** Thank you, Camilla. I’m happy, too.  
I really like him. 

**Camilla  
** Awww  
You’re really adorable sometimes, you know?  
Anyway, I have to go. I’ll come over and stay with Sieg tomorrow, all right?  
Good night, Xander.

 **Xander  
** Thanks again. I mean it. Good night.

 

* * *

 

Xander smiles to himself when he spots Inigo waiting outside the coffeeshop.

He walks up to him. “Hey.”

Inigo snaps his head up to look at him, and he gives him the sunny smile that always does so much to Xander. This time, Xander doesn’t want to look away. “Hi,” Inigo says, but then something shifts in his face, and he turns his gaze away, looking down at the ground.

“Is something wrong?” Xander says.

“Oh, what? No, sorry,” Inigo says, looking back at him again, like he’s suddenly aware of himself. He gives Xander another smile, not as bright as the other one, and takes him by the arm through the door. “Come on, let’s go inside.”

Xander’s still concerned, but he won’t push it if Inigo doesn’t want to say anything. He puts the umbrella he brought (because the morning news said there was a chance of rain today) in the umbrella stand. “All right,” he says, and follows. “I hope you didn’t wait too long?”

“Don’t worry, I didn’t,” Inigo says. He gives Xander a look from top to bottom. “You’re looking nice today.”

“Thanks. My sister helped me pick it out,” Xander says. He did spend a large amount of time agonizing over what to wear today, only for Camilla to come over and order him to change his “disgusting” clothes into something completely different the moment she stepped foot in the house. “You… you look good, too.”

A blush spreads on Inigo’s face. “Oh, uh, haha. You don’t need to say that,” he says.

“But I mean it,” Xander says, as earnestly as he can.

“Argh, why are you so… so…” Inigo sputters, his face even redder,

“So what?” Xander asks.

“So…” Inigo flails his arm around. “You know! Gosh, I thought I was supposed to be suave one…” 

Xander chuckles a bit at that, then he orders their coffee. Inigo gives him a proud pat when he orders the right kind. Xander thinks he sees him eyeing the strawberry cheesecake in the display case, and he’s about to offer to buy it for him before the barista brings them their coffee and Inigo pulls him away to a small table to sit at.

“Too bad Severa isn’t here,” Inigo says, putting sugar in his coffee. “It would’ve been nice to show her that I actually can get a date.”

“What, she thinks you can’t?” Xander says.

Inigo laughs. “Well, I dunno, look at me,” he says. “Rejection and I are old friends. We go way back. Honestly, I don't even know how this—right now—happened.”

Xander frowns. "What do you mean?"

"Oh, come on,” Inigo says. "Okay, I'm not saying that I don't want to be here, because I do! It's just. You know. It's just, 'wow, he is SO out of my league, how did this even happen?!’"

"Is that what you think?" Xander says, still frowning. “You shouldn’t.”

“But, but you are!" Inigo says. "You're good-looking—“

“I think you're very good-looking.”

“—You're smart—“

“So are you!”

“—You're super duper rich—"

“Okay, so?” Xander says, shrugging. "Who cares? I don’t."

Inigo is quiet for a while, and just looks at Xander.

“Come on," Xander says softly. "You told Siegbert that he should 'believe in yourself’, didn't you? Maybe you should listen to your own advice.”

"It's easy telling other people. Doing it yourself is much harder,” Inigo says. “But, anyway… so… you actually like me?”

“Yes, Inigo, I actually like you,” Xander says. He thinks he’s blushing, he’s probably blushing. “You’re kind and smart and strong, and you have a nice smile, and you make me feel happy whenever I see you—“

“Whoa there, big guy,” Inigo says, holding out his hands. “Wow, just—geez. It’s kind of embarrassing hearing those kinds of things from you!”

“Well, it seemed to me like you needed some proof,” Xander says, smiling.

“Oh, gosh,” Inigo says. He buries his red face in his hands. “You're so sweet. Siegbert’s just like you, the both of you are the same, so nice and sweet…”

“I _am_ his father,” Xander says.

“W-Well! No way am I just going to let you one-up me like this!” Inigo cries. “I loved becoming your friend and getting to know you more, because the closer we got the more I discovered how good of a person you are—you’re selfless and always thinking of others, and you have a heart as gold as your hair. Which, by the way, falls gorgeously into curls that reflect the day’s warm light, not to mention your _amazing_ profile and your dazzling eyes—“

Xander snorts. He immediately covers his mouth with his hand, embarrassed at making such a sound. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says, trying to muffle his laughter. “ _‘Dazzling eyes’_.”

“I’m trying,” Inigo says, huffing.

“All right, I’m sorry. You beat me,” Xander says. “Exaggerations and all.”

“Shut up, it’s called being _romantic_!” Inigo says, and the both of them are laughing.

And Xander thinks he understands those romance novels Elise loves to read: the racing of your heart; the fluttering butterflies in your stomach; all of the cliches. Except he doesn’t think they’re cheesy and ridiculous, he likes it. Likes the feeling.

(He hasn’t felt like this in the longest time—five years, to be exact. He didn’t think he’d ever have something like this again after Siegbert’s mother passed away.)

“I’m glad I can say these kinds of things now without putting myself into an awkward position,” Xander says.

“There wasn’t anything stopping you before,” Inigo says.

“I guess it was just myself, then,” Xander says. “I’m glad that I pulled it together.”

Inigo smiles at him again, then his eyes look over Xander’s shoulder, somewhere behind him, and Xander turns his head around to follow his gaze. At the counter, someone has purchased a slice of strawberry cheesecake. In the display case, only one slice of the cheesecake remains.

Xander turns back to Inigo, who seems to find the woodwork of the table very interesting all of a sudden, pretending that he wasn’t looking at anything at all. Xander smiles. “I can get you that slice if you want,” he says.

“What?” Inigo says. “Oh, what slice? Slice of what?”

Xander lifts his eyebrows.

Inigo lifts his eyebrows in return. Xander views it as a challenge.

Xander sighs. “I’ll get it for myself, then.” He notes how Inigo’s eyes widen when he rises from his seat and goes to order the last piece. He asks for two forks when the barista hands him the tray with the strawberry cheesecake. Inigo’s still surprised when Xander comes back and sets tray on the table.

Inigo’s trying hard not to eye the cheesecake. Xander rolls his eyes fondly and pushes the plate towards him. “Here,” he says.

“I thought it was yours,” Inigo says.

“I want to share it with you,” he says. “Why do you think I asked for an extra fork?” He hands one of them to Inigo with a soft smile.

Inigo takes the fork, returning Xander’s smile. “Thank you,” he says. He takes a bite of the cheesecake, and his expression melts into bliss. “Oh, it’s so good.”

“Why didn't you want to order it earlier?" Xander asks.

“I-I dunno," Inigo says. “I guess I just thought getting something like this was ridiculous and embarrassing. I didn't know what you would think of me.”

“It’s all right," Xander says. "It's just cake."

"Ugh, I know," Inigo says. "I'm sorry for making such a big deal out of it.”

“No, that wasn't what I meant,” Xander says. “Don’t worry about something like this. It’s fine.”

“Oh. Uh, thanks. It means a lot,” Inigo says. He digs his fork into the cheesecake for another bite. “God, everything here is so good. I love this place so much. Hey, wait! You haven’t tasted it yet!”

“I don’t know, you seem to really like it,” Xander says.

Now it’s Inigo’s turn to roll his eyes. “Shut up, you.” He takes a piece of the slice with his fork and holds it out to Xander. “Here.”

Xander looks at the piece of cheesecake, then at Inigo, then the cheesecake again. He shrugs. “Okay,” he says, and leans forward to take the piece into his mouth.

“Wh-Wha—“ Inigo says, completely flustered. "You weren't supposed to do that! You were supposed to take the fork and eat it yourself! Now everyone's going to think we're some mushy lovey-dovey couple! How embarrassing!”

Xander chews, then swallows. Oh, it did taste really good. “Nobody’s watching us,” he tells him, amused. 

Inigo pouts, red in the face again, not saying anything. He liked this side of Inigo, he thought, the one that was shy and bashful and easily tongue-tied. He found it quite endearing.

They both finish the cheesecake, except Xander only takes a few tiny bites for himself so that Inigo can have the rest. They talk and swap stories; Inigo tells him of all the silly, adorable antics Soleil has been up to lately, and Xander tells him of times when Siegbert’s unintentional comedic genius shone through when he was trying to be mature and serious.

“I should probably go now,” Inigo says later, after checking the time. “I promised my mom that I would help her make dinner.” His face falls when he looks out the window. “Oh, no. It’s raining.”

“How will you get home?” Xander asks.

“I would’ve taken the bus, but…”

“I brought an umbrella,” Xander says. “I can walk you over to the bus stop.”

“Really?” Inigo says, relief showing through. “Thank you so much.”

They leave the coffeeshop. Xander didn’t anticipate sharing his umbrella with someone else, so the one he brought was small, and the both of them walked on the wet pavements of the street pressed closely together. Inigo kept his hands in his pockets, but it was warm where the sides of their arms met, and neither of them pulled away even if the small umbrella could allow a tiny fraction of space.

Inigo’s awfully quiet, in contrast to his openness before while they were inside. Xander remembers when they met outside the coffeeshop earlier, how Inigo seemed almost despondent for a moment.

                                                             

"I can keep you company while you wait,” Xander offers, when they reach the empty bus stop.

“You don’t have to do that,” Inigo says.

“It’s fine. I insist,” Xander says, closing his umbrella.

“I had a lot of fun with you today,” Inigo tells him, softly. “Thanks for bringing me out.”

“Thank you, too,” Xander says, giving him a soft smile. “I really enjoyed spending time with you.”

Inigo watches his face carefully. “You’re very handsome when you smile.”

“I’ve been doing that a lot more now, thanks to you,” Xander says.

Inigo blushes, and ducks his head, looking down at the ground. Xander allows himself to admire the way red spreads across his cheeks.

“Do you think it would be presumptuous of me to think that there’ll be a next time?” Xander asks.

Inigo’s expression withers, and he looks back at him, crestfallen. “Yes,” he answers, almost quietly. He takes in a deep breath. “I-I’m sorry, but. I can’t see you like this anymore. We can’t continue this.”

“What?” Xander says, lips frowning, hoping that he had misheard. “What do you mean?”

“Look, I, I really am sorry, and I really did have a nice time with you, and I really do like you,” Inigo says, covering his face with his hands. “But I-I can’t. Xander, I’m your son’s teacher.”

“But,” Xander starts, trying to think of what to say, hoping that whatever he ends up saying would work. “It doesn’t matter to me. It doesn’t matter to Siegbert, either. Believe me, I asked him!”

“It matters to me, all right?” Inigo says. “I’m sorry, I know I’m just being petty and selfish, but this job, it’s important to me. Dating a student’s parent is unethical, and I just, I don’t want to mess it up, okay? I shouldn’t have said yes to you in the first place, I know, but, but, I liked you so much and then you actually asked me out and I was too shocked and happy to think straight, okay? And then I was supposed to explain everything to you outside the coffeeshop, but then you actually looked happy to see me and then we ended up having a good time and I-I couldn’t—ugh. I’m so sorry. I’m such a mess, none of this makes sense.”

Xander's heart in his chest is heavy, so heavy, but he understands. “No, please, don’t apologize,” he says. “Don’t be upset, please. It’s okay. I get it.”

“You,” Inigo says, “you do?”

“Yes,” Xander says gently, “and it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, all right?”

“Oh,” Inigo says. “Yeah. Yeah, you’re—you’re right. I’m sorry, I just—I thought you would be mad at me, or something.”

“I would never be,” Xander says. “I respect you, and your principles. I understand. Please don't feel bad anymore, okay?”

“Okay,” Inigo says. “Thank you, Xander. Maybe…” he gives him a smile, one dimmer than the others. “Maybe when the school year’s over, hot stuff.” He laughs shakily.

“That’s all right,” Xander says. “I can wait.”

“I—I was just kidding,” Inigo says.

“Oh,” Xander says, a little heartbroken. “You… don’t want me to?”

“No! That’s not what I meant,” Inigo says. “I mean… you’ll probably just forget all of this by then, right?”

“Why would you think that?” Xander asks, frowning. “I wouldn’t.”

Inigo looks at him the same way he did when Xander sat with him and his mother that time he ran into him, and it’s strange and Xander doesn’t know what it means and he doesn’t know what to think of it.

Inigo’s face shifts into a smile, the real one, and now _that’s_ something Xander is familiar with, he thinks as he feels his chest lightening. “Okay, you weirdo,” Inigo says.

The bus arrives. Inigo turns to him once more before he gets on.

“Maybe I can explain it to you more some other time, so that you’ll understand better,” Inigo says.

“All right,” Xander says. “Have a safe trip.”

Inigo gives him one last smile. “Thanks. See you around.”

The bus leaves. Xander walks back to his car alone, accompanied by no one except the pitter-patter of the raindrops falling on his umbrella.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Classes just started for me, and I've been really busy and it's only been the first few weeks soooo obviously that means I'm going to get even busier. Unfortunately, I have a bunch of heavy duties to shoulder in school.... sad emoji. This coupled with the fact that I'm a very slow writer means that I don't think that I'll be still be able to follow the update schedule I've had so far :((((( I'm the worst I know huhu I'm so sorry :'( So yeah expect the next chapter to be late probably!! maybe check my tumblr [@transientvision](http://transientvision.tumblr.com) for updates idk


	5. Sunflowers, Misunderstandings, and Fancy Restaurants

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the wait :( I hope that the fact that this is another 10k chapter makes up for it...
> 
> In this chapter we learn more about Siegbert's mother. I know Canon character/OFCs aren't usually taken very well but, well, you know. It felt awful to just make a character to be Siegbert's mother, and then just leave it to that--Siegbert's mom, that's all she is. I am a bit nervous to post this but eh, whatever, I'll follow my rules.
> 
> Roxanne comes from Roxana, the name of Alexander the Great's wife. Alexander the Great, where Xander gets his name from. So, like, you know, I'm totally not just pulling all of this out of my ass, lmao

“You’ve got good taste in wine, brother,” Camilla says, swirling her glass. It was late, Siegbert was in bed, and it was just the two of them in the living room with some movie playing in the background. “Now, spill.”

Camilla refused to just leave when Xander came back from his date with heartbreak on his face. After Xander had assured her that there was no one he wanted her to severely injure as payback, Camilla had insisted that the two of them sit down and talk about it.

“Those shoes can’t be comfortable,” Xander says, noticing that Camilla was still wearing her heels. “Have you been wearing them all day? You can take them off.”

“It’s nothing I’m not used to,” Camilla says. She sips her wine.

“Cam, come on,” Xander says. “It’s fine. It’s just me here.”

“All right,” Camilla says after a while. She sets her glass down on the side table, and bends down to take off her shoes.

“Better?” Xander asks.

Camilla massages her left foot. “Yes, actually,” she says. “Thanks.”

“No, don’t thank me,” Xander says. “Why were you wearing them, anyway? Did you go somewhere before here?”

“I did. I had a meeting with someone shortly after lunch,” Camilla says. “Now, let’s return to the matter at hand. Don’t change the topic anymore, Xander.”

“I told you, it’s not really worth fussing over,” Xander says. “Can’t we just drink our wine and watch this movie?” He gestures to the TV, to… whatever is playing. He isn’t really paying attention. He isn’t really in the mood.

“You’re obviously upset, Xander,” Camilla says. “Tell me what’s wrong, please?”

“It’s just…” Xander trails off, and sighs. “Well. Nothing’s actually wrong. I don’t know why I’m upset.”

“Just tell me what happened, then,” Camilla says.

Xander considers this. “Okay,” he says, quietly. Xander’s grown in the years that have passed, even if just a little, and he is kinder to himself now. He can let himself open up more easily. 

He tells her what happened. How Xander gathered the courage to ask Inigo out for coffee. About the coffeeshop they both love. How Xander walked him to the bus stop. What Inigo told him after.

(He almost tells her the details, the compliments and the cheesecake and the rest, but his chest too heavy at the memory of Inigo’s smile. His laugh, his flushed face.)

“Oh, Xander,” Camilla says, putting a hand on his. “I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be, please,” Xander says. “Nobody’s at fault here, I just—I don’t _get it._ I already know why he doesn’t want to continue anything, I understand his reasoning, but I—I still feel this way. Sad and upset and… and… I don’t know. I don’t know, Camilla.”

“No, Xander,” Camilla says. “It’s all right. It’s all right for you to be sad, okay?”

“I… okay,” Xander says. If Camilla says so, then so it is. She’s always right about these things.

“Come here,” she says, motioning to her side. “Lay your head on my shoulder and let yourself be sad and just watch this movie.”

“I think I’m a little too old for that now, Camilla,” Xander says.

“Shhh,” Camilla says. “Be quiet. Just lie down.”

“Fine,” Xander says, and he puts his glass of wine down beside Camilla’s. He scoots over next to her and places his head in the crook of her neck.

They used to do this, when they were younger, when Garon had started to change into someone terrifyingly not the father they once knew. Xander would refuse to tell Camilla his problems, not budging even a little when Camilla tried to get him to talk. She would then resort to giving him physical reassurance, such as a hug or letting him lean on her shoulder.

He doesn’t remember his mother. Whenever somebody asked about her or if there were any other mother figures in his life, it was always Camilla who came to mind. Whenever he tried to recall his mother’s face, it was always Camilla instead.

“Camilla?” Xander asks, his voice soft in the dark room, the only light source the glow of the TV.

“Yes?” Camilla says. They’ve both got their eyes on the screen, but neither of them have been following what’s going on. 

“I just wanted to say,” Xander tells her, “I’m sorry that you had to grow up so fast. Sometimes… sometimes it’s like you’re the eldest, because you’re the one always supporting us. I’m your older brother, so I should be the one always there for you, and I… I feel like I’ve failed you somehow. I’m… I’m so _sorry._ ”

Camilla is quiet for a while. The movie plays on, and Xander wonders if he said the wrong thing. “You had to grow up faster than you should have, too,” she says at last. “You went through the same things, too.”

“Camilla, I—“

“You think too much about others, Xander,” Camilla says.

“So do you,” Xander answers, sitting up straight to look at her properly.

Camilla hums. She reaches for her wine and takes a sip. “Don’t say you think you've failed me, please. I look up to you. We all do. When things got rough, you were always there, staying strong and unwavering, and somehow… somehow it made us feel like everything is going to be all right, one way or another.” She laughs, a bitter sound. “Then again, that should have been more of a burden on you. Maybe we were the ones who failed you in the end, as your siblings.”

“ _No_ ,” Xander says, his voice breaking on the word. “No. It was my responsibility.”

“What?” Camilla says, brows furrowed and eyes intensely focused on him. “To be so detached? To be so lonely? We’re family, Xander. Being the oldest doesn’t mean you have to shoulder everything by yourself. We all have to help each other.”

Xander takes this in. It’s hard to completely comprehend, not right away, when he’s been doing things all alone all this time. But he tries. He’ll get there.

“Hey, it's late," Xander says. “Do you want to stay over?”

“I don’t know,” Camilla says, smiling innocently. Looks like she could use a change of subject as well, despite her chiding him earlier. “I didn't bring my pajamas.”

Xander rolls his eyes. “Yes, you can wear mine.”

“I’m not staying in the room near yours,” Camilla says. “You snore.”

Xander frowns. “Surely I don’t snore that loudly.”

“You do, big brother,” Camilla says fondly. “You do.”

 

* * *

 

Inigo sighs and leans his cheek into his palm. He had his laptop open in front of him, his new lesson plan waiting to be finished, but he just couldn't find it in himself to concentrate.

He almost jumps out of his seat when something clacks against the table, and looks up to see a mug put on the tabletop by his mother, looking down at him with a gentle expression.

The mug’s contents smelled sweet and familiar. “Cocoa,” Inigo says, leaning over to take a closer look, a smile forming on his lips. “And with marshmallows.”

“Just how you like it," Olivia says. “I figured you needed something to cheer you up.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he says, and takes the mug by the handle to take a sip. It burns his tongue and Inigo winces. “H-Hot…”

“Sorry,” Olivia says, taking a seat opposite him. “Just let it cool a little bit for a while.”

Inigo sets the mug a safe distance away from his laptop. “Didn’t you make any for yourself?”

“No,” Olivia says. “Is your date from earlier still bothering you?”

“Oh, that?” Inigo says, plastering a practiced smile on his face. “No, I’m fine. Don’t worry about it, Mom. I still appreciate the cocoa, though.”

Olivia frowns. “Inigo,” she says, sighing, “don’t do that.”

Inigo drops his smile. “You’re—you’re right,” he says. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

“It hurts us to see you hide your true feelings, dear,” Olivia says. “Your dad especially. He’s been through it enough.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Inigo says. He looks down, at his keyboard. “I guess I am still pretty upset about it.”

“I’m always here for you, sweetie. And I know you’ll get over it,” Olivia says. “I mean, you’ve been through heartbreak before, right?”

Inigo cringes. “Gee, Mom. Thanks.”

“Oh!” Olivia shouts, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh, no. Oh, gosh. I didn’t mean it like that! I’m so, so sorry, Inigo.”

“It’s fine. You’re right, anyway,” Inigo says. “I kinda… I kinda just feel really ridiculous. I mean, _I’m_ the one who said ‘I can’t do this’. So why am I so sad about it? I’m so… so… ugh! I don’t even understand _myself._ ”

“Of course you’re sad about it, Inigo!” Olivia says. “You like him!”

“I do,” Inigo says. He sighs.

“And he likes you, too,” Olivia says. “That’s what he said, right?”

“Yes,” Inigo says, putting his face into his hands. “Mom, do you know what else he said?”

“What?” Olivia asks.

“Well, I said, ‘maybe when the school year’s over, hot stuff’, you know, like an idiot. Because I was trying to lighten up the situation so that he wouldn’t feel too bad about it. I was only joking, but. He took it seriously. He told me that he can wait. And, and… he. He meant it.”

Olivia gives him a tender smile. “I know he’ll still be there at the end of the year. I can feel it,” she says. “Inigo… don’t let this one go, okay?”

“I don't want to,” Inigo says. “It’s just... so unbelievable. It’s like—what the hell! Someone I like likes me back! Am I dreaming? Is this real? Who knows!”

“Maybe I shouldn’t have raised you on so much musicals,” Olivia says. “You’re so dramatic sometimes.”

“How boring would everything be if I didn't have Lea Salonga’s voice in my life, Mom?” Inigo whines.

“Very much. I take what I said back,” Olivia says. “But why do you think that? It's not _impossible_ for someone to like you!”

“I don't know, Mom,” Inigo says. “Maybe take a look at my entire romantic history?”

“People have liked you before,” Olivia points out.

Inigo huffs. "And look at how all those relationships ended up.”

Olivia looks at him, frowning. “You're scared that this is just going to go badly.”

“What?” Inigo says. “No, I'm not. I'm not scared. Ha! Give me some credit, Mom, I'm not that pathetic.”

“Inigo, you and I both know that there are things we just don’t know for sure. We can’t change that," Olivia says. “And it’s scary, sometimes. But we shouldn’t let that fear consume us, and prevent us from doing things. I’ve had my terrible stage fright pretty much my entire life, remember? I was never sure if my audience would like my performance or not, and that terrified me. But I loved dancing more than I was scared. I didn’t let it stop me. Do you get what I’m saying?”

Inigo kind of feels like he’s seen too many movies and read too many books that gave him the same kind of “face your fears” idea at this age, but okay. “Sort of,” he says.

“My point is that I’m not denying that it could end up sourly,” Olivia says. “But that also means that it could end up perfectly. You’re afraid, I know, but don’t let it stop you from pursuing that tall, handsome, polite gentleman who has very nice hair—“

“Mom!” Inigo yells, his face red, “I know that stuff already.”

“Okay, okay,” Olivia says. “But you understand, right? I know you do. You’re very smart.”

Inigo buries his faces into his hands, even redder now. “Mom…”

“And you’re so nice and thoughtful,” Olivia says. “Always so cheerful and brightening up everyone’s day. And handsome, too!” she pulls Inigo’s face up and pinches his cheeks. “Oh, look at you.”

“Mom!” Inigo puts her hands away. “I’m not a kid anymore! And it’s so embarrassing to hear those things…”

“Oh, but it’s true!” Olivia says. “No matter what you believe, you will always be worthy of love, sweetie.”

Inigo doesn’t say anything at first. His mother always knew how to make him feel warm and loved. He smiles at her. “Okay, Mom.”

“Well, I don’t want to bother you any more.” Olivia gets up from her seat and pats Inigo’s arm. “I’ll let you do your work in peace.”

“You weren’t bothering me,” Inigo says. “Are you going to sleep?”

“In a bit, yeah.”

“Okay. Good night.”

“Good night.”

Olivia leaves, and Inigo puts his focus back on his laptop screen and tries to continue his work. It's hard.

He should get some sleep.

 

* * *

 

Xander is nervous, come Monday. Part of him is scared of facing Inigo in the morning, but another, more vocal part of him is insisting that it doesn’t matter if he's afraid because damn it he made a decision to walk Siegbert to class every day and he isn’t going to disappoint his son just because of some ridiculous reason.

It’s not like they’re kids, anyway. They're adults. They can handle these situations maturely. It’s not like what happened is going to destroy the friendship they’ve forged.

(Right?)

“Papa, your face looks worried,” Siegbert says, as they walk to the classroom. “More than it usually is.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry. It’s just, ah…” he stops, trying to think of what to say. “Work.”

“It’s always work,” Siegbert says.

“Yes, it is,” Xander says. There’s a hint of guilt in his voice.

“Papa, if you don’t like your job, why do you work there?” Siegbert says. "Mr. Inigo says that when we’re older we should find a job that we like.”

“Mr. Inigo’s right,” Xander says. “But for me, I wasn’t able to do that.”

“Why?” Siegbert says. “Is it because of Grandpa?”

Xander sighs. “Yes,” he says.

Siegbert stops in his tracks, stopping Xander as well. “But why, Papa? You're not happy! You’re always like _this_.” Siegbert scrunches up his face into a frown, narrowing his eyes and knitting his eyebrows together. It’s more adorable than intimidating, really.

Xander crouches down to Siegbert’s level. “It’s complicated, Siegbert. Maybe some other time I can explain it to you.” He brushes a stray strand of hair from Siegbert’s face. “But you won’t have to be like me, okay? I won’t allow that to happen.”

“But I’m talking about you, Papa,” Siegbert says.

“I know,” Xander says. “And thank you, Siegbert. But please, don’t worry about me.”

Siegbert pouts, clearly still bothered, but he doesn’t say anything more. Xander stands up and takes his hand again. They walk to the classroom.

It’s too hard to try to ignore Inigo. Xander hears his laugh the moment he and Siegbert step into the room. He’s off in the corner talking with some other parents. Xander's chest tightens.

He knows it’s childish, but he wonders whether he could just pretend to not see him, kiss Siegbert goodbye, and go along on his way—then he makes the mistake of looking Inigo’s direction, and their eyes lock and Inigo’s face is unreadable for three seconds and Xander doesn’t know what to do.

Inigo gives him the tiniest of smiles. Xander’s insides do that strange thing again.

While Siegbert goes off to put his bag, Xander steels himself together and walks over to where Inigo was talking to some other parents.

They’re adults, after all, not high schoolers. Something like… _what happened_ wouldn’t do anything stupid like damage their friendship.

Inigo is looking up at him expectantly when he gets there, and so are the other parents. What does he say? They’re all waiting for him to say something. Why did he do this. Xander feels like a young boy again, shy and timid.

“Ah,” Xander says. “Hello.”

“Hi,” one of the parents pipes up helpfully. She wears a brown cardigan and speaks in a sweet voice with an accent that sounded a bit like it was from the country. Xander gets the impression that she could be the type of parent who was motherly to not only her children but also everyone else.

“We were just talking about the field trip,” says the other parent, in a strong, clear voice. She's dressed sharply with her smooth dark blue blazer with her long hair tied back. Her hairstyle reminded him of someone, but he just couldn't place who right now... she also seemed familiar, like he's seen her before. “Will you be chaperoning as well?”

“I am,” Xander answers.

“He is,” Inigo says at the same time.

Xander blinks. “A-Ah.”

Inigo’s cheeks go pink. “S-Sorry!” he says, flustered. “I just—I—“ he coughs into his hand. “Yeah.”

The two ladies look at the both of them in amusement, then they look at each other (they stood very closely to each other, Xander noticed). “All right,” says the mother in brown, slowly.

“Mr. de Nohr has already told me that he’ll be going,” Inigo explains, cracking a sheepish smile. He looks at Xander. “Right?”

Ah. _Mr. de Nohr._ So that’s how it is.

“Right,” Xander says, putting his professional face back on, his tone distant. “I think I’ve bothered you enough today; please excuse me. Good day.”

He nods to the three of them before turning away. What was he thinking? Of course Inigo would want to keep his distance after what had happened—he can’t risk anything anymore. He would never want to burden Inigo by selfishly putting his own feelings first. It's the best thing to do.

“Siegbert,” he says, kneeling down a putting a hand on his son’s shoulder. “I have to go now.”

“Oh, okay,” Siegbert says. He wraps his small arms around him. ”Bye, Papa.”

And so Xander leaves, pushing away the heavy feeling in his chest. It’s a familiar, practiced action, one done several times before.

 

 

 

“Oh, Mr. Xaaaaaan-derrrr!” he hears Peri say in a sing-song voice later in the day, rapping on the door to his office. “Knock, knock!”

“Come in,” Xander says, though he does not look up from the email he’s been writing on his computer screen. 

Peri enters. ”There's a memo here for you, sir!” She holds out a piece of paper. “About the big business conference you attend every year.”

Xander continues typing. "Which one?”

“The same conference as the one last year where an intern threw up on Mr. Iago!” Peri says.

“Ah,” Xander says, finally tearing his eyes away from the monitor, taking off his reading glasses. “I remember that.” He takes the paper from Peri’s hands. It was a conference out of town, and one Garon expected him to attend annually.

His gaze drops to the bottom of the paper where the date for this year’s conference was written. Xander curses inwardly.

“Something wrong, Mr. Xander?” Peri asks, leaning her head to the side.

“Inform my father that I cannot attend this year,” Xander says, rubbing at his temple and putting the memo aside. This is going to put him in trouble.

“Really? Are you sure, sir? Your dad always makes a big deal out of this one, and he’s so scary…” Peri says. “Though I guess I understand! Those conferences must be really boring.”

“No, that’s not it,” Xander says. “I already made plans to come to my son’s field trip. It’s on the same day.” He’s going to pay for this one, he knows. But he thinks about how happy Siegbert would be if he comes along on the field trip, that sweet, bright smile that makes everything feel okay.

The thought of the field trip brings his mind to his earlier conversation with Inigo and those other parents, too. _No_ , Xander thinks, pushing the memory away. _Not now_. 

“Ohhhh,” Peri says. “Okay, I get it! That’s really sweet of you to do, Mr. Xander. Siegbert should be really glad that he has such a nice dad like you! Oh, wait, should I mention this to Mr. Garon when I tell him you can't come? Maybe it would make him understand.”

Xander mulls it over. “No,” he says, because Garon wouldn’t understand. Could never understand.

Maybe he would have, in a different time, with a different Garon. Xander shakes himself away from his thoughts. It’s best not to dwell on it.

“If you say so," Peri says, cheerful as ever.

“If he demands a reason for my expected absence,” Xander says, “tell him to ask me. Directly.” It's a brave move, and most probably a foolish one. Going against Garon’s wishes is one thing. Openly inviting his wrath is another.

“Okie-dokie, Mr. Xander,” Peri says. “Well, that's all. I'll go back to work now. Bye-bye!”

“Goodbye,” Xander calls out absently. When Peri shuts the door behind her, Xander buries his face in his hands, and sighs.

Xander lifts his head. At the edge of his desk were two picture frames: one, with him and all his siblings, taken years ago at Corrin’s graduation, and the other with Siegbert, on the beach, a giant conch shell in his hands, grinning up at him. 

It was Xander who took the picture, on his phone, which explained its quality—he never quite had the eye or skill for photography, or art in general. The camera was a bit shaky, the contrast wasn’t great, the composition was bad, and lots of other things Xander didn’t really understand. But for him, the picture was perfect—it was taken when they and the rest of their family (sans Garon) went to the beach. Xander doesn't swim, and Siegbert didn't want to leave his father's side, so they did other things together, like look for seashells. Siegbert found the biggest one, and came running to Xander with his prize. He looked so proud and happy with himself that Xander had to take a picture, and so he did.

Xander smiles. If it's for Siegbert, he’ll endure it.

 

* * *

 

The weeks pass. Xander continues to walk Siegbert to his classroom everyday, even though his usual friendly conversations with Inigo have now become stilted and awkward.

(“Good morning, Mr. de Nohr.”

“Good morning.”

“How are you?”

“Just fine. And you?”

“Fine as well.”

And that was that.)

Xander wouldn’t admit to anyone that he misses him, even if he did. He missed his smile, and his laugh—granted, Inigo did still smile and laugh, but it was when he was talking to the other parents, never directed at him, and it felt a bit off somehow, a bit different.

(Sometimes, they did not even speak. A simple nod of acknowledgement, and another nod in return. Both go back to their own business.)

It was… lonely. Not completely, but lonely nonetheless, in its own way. 

Then the weeks pass and that day comes again.

After work, before picking up Siegbert from Corrin’s, Xander stops by the florist and purchases a bouquet of sunflowers, as he does every year. 

They’re expensive, but they were his wife’s favorite.

Siegbert brightens up when he sees the bright yellow flowers lying in the car. “Sunflowers!” he says. “Are they for Mama?”

“Yes,” Xander says. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Uh-huh,” Siegbert says. “You told me a few days ago. It’s Mama’s birthday.”

Roxanne was never fond of making a big deal out of her own birthday, and so there were only flowers and visits to her grave every year. Xander had already cleared his schedule for Saturday so he and Siegbert could go. He knew that if she were here, she’d only chide him if he were to make a fuss about celebrating, no matter how much he wished to. Roxanne was a person who was always prepared to do anything to make her loved ones happy, but she disliked drawing too much attention to herself. Xander was the same, and he understood. 

(They were not good together for nothing, after all.)

They arrive at their house. Siegbert asks if he could bring the flowers inside, to which Xander says yes to. He follows closely behind Siegbert as they walk across the lawn to the front door, with Siegbert holding the bouquet tightly with both hands, brows furrowed slightly in concentration, being very careful as to not accidentally drop it. Xander watches him with a small smile.

“Stay here,” Xander says, once they’re inside. “I’ll find the vase. Will you help me put them in?”

Siegbert nods. Xander goes upstairs to look for the vase they use every year—the blue glass one, which went well with the sunflower’s yellow petals. It should be in one of the closets here somewhere… Xander finds it on the bottom shelf of one of the cabinets in his study. Displeased to find a thin layer of dust on the vase, he grabs some tissue from the bathroom and cleans the vase’s surface before bringing it down to Siegbert.

“Do you remember how we do it?” Xanders asks him.

“Yes, Papa,” Siegbert answers. “Um… you put the water first, right?”

“Right,” Xander says.

They move over to the kitchen sink, with Xander holding the vase under the faucet and Siegbert controlling the tap (“It has to fill three-fourths of the vase—that’s more than half, but not all the way,” Xander instructs. “Just turn the tap off when I say stop, all right?”)

“Papa, why do we need to cut the stems, again?” Siegbert asks, after Xander has retrieved a pair of scissors from a drawer.

“Because after when we buy the flowers, it’s out of water, right?” Xander explains. “So the ends get dried up, and they can’t soak up the water that well, which they need for them to be healthy. But when we cut it… here, like this, diagonally—that means slanted—“ he snips off an inch of the stem, leaving the edges sharp, and puts it up for Siegbert to see, “—Good as new.”

“The flowers can be happy now!” Siegbert says. “Mama wouldn’t like it if they were sad.”

“That’s right,” Xander says, smiling softly. 

Roxanne was the one who had taught him how to prepare flowers properly in a vase. She taught him how to do a lot of things, actually, from laundry to fixing the sink to folding clothes. Things he and his siblings never quite thought about growing up, not with house help around to do it for him when they were all still children living with their father in that big, old house. Roxanne was from a well-off family, like he was, but she was independent instead of spoiled.

(“How did you do that?” Xander had said one time, after Roxanne had miraculously fixed his car’s engine, looking up at her in awe.

“It’s a machine,” she answered, huffing a laugh, as if it was a silly question. “It can be fixed.”

“We didn’t all major in engineering like you, I’m afraid,” Xander said.

Roxanne clicked her tongue, but she still smiled. “You big baby,” she said. “What would you do without me?”

Xander never gave the idea much thought before. Now he knows.)

On the dining table, Xander and Siegbert put the sunflowers into the vase. Xander moves to take the vase, but before he can take it to where they usually place it Siegbert stops him.

“Wait!” Siegbert says. “I—I almost forgot.”

“Forgot what?” Xander asks.

But Siegbert is already running up the stairs. “Please wait here, Papa!”

“Siegbert! Be careful, don’t run!” Xander calls out. There’s the sound of a door opening and closing upstairs. He sighs.

A few moments later Siegbert comes down again, and he isn’t running this time. In his hands were a few pieces of paper with drawings on them.

“What’s that?” Xander asks, trying to get a better look.

Siegbert holds out the papers for him. “Mama’s gift,” he says. “But the other one is for you.”

Xander looks at the first drawing. It’s a school assignment of some sorts, graded with a happy face star stamp. At the top of the paper read “My Hero”. Below that, a crayon drawing of who appeared to be him, tall and proud, labelled “Papa”.

Xander's heart swells with something that feels almost like pride, but something more. Pride and gratitude and surprise and love all rolled into one big wave of emotion. 

“Thank you, Siegbert,” Xander says, dropping down to his level and embracing him. “I love it. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, Papa,” Siegbert says. “Can you check the one I made for Mama? I want to know if she would like it.”

It’s done with crayon, but not for school this time, and depicts Xander, Siegbert, and Roxanne (whose appearance Siegbert must have copied from her picture) all holding hands and beaming. It puts an actual smile on Xander's face.

“I-Is it okay?” Siegbert asks, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

Xander ruffles his hair. “Of course it is. It’s beautiful. She would be so proud of you,” he says. “As I am.”

Siegbert’s face lights up, and the sight warms Xander’s heart. “Really?” he says. “Yay! I’m so glad.”

On the fireplace mantel in the living there lie frames containing photos of their family, including one of a smiling, bespectacled woman. Year after year Xander felt Siegbert resemble his mother in the photo more and more: the shape of his eyes, his round face. Everyone said he looked like Xander but Xander could see only Roxanne in his face—or perhaps it was because he refused to see anything _but_ Roxanne in his face.

The both of them put the flower vase and Siegbert’s present on the mantel beside her picture.

“U-Um…” Siegbert says. “Happy birthday, Mama.”

Xander puts a hand on his son’s shoulder. “We’re lucky to have a son like you, Siegbert,” he says softly. He looks to the photo, at her face. “Happy birthday.”

“Papa?” Siegbert says. “Can I… ask you something?”

“Yes, of course,” Xander says.

“Could you… could you tell me about Mama?” Siegbert asks. “I want to know her more.”

“Of course I could,” Xander says. “Later, before you sleep. Is that all right?”

“Y-Yes!” Siegbert answers, giving Xander a big grin. “It’ll be like a bedtime story! Thank you so much, Papa.”

_He smiles like her_ , Xander thinks. 

Xander never really believed in heaven or angels, but in recent years he had found himself wishing that such things were true. Roxanne deserved to watch over her son, to see what a fine young man he was slowly growing into. It hurt too much if it just ended _there_ , with nothing after, nothing continued.

He knows it isn’t entirely like that, because they remember her and buy her flowers and make her drawings, but still a part of him hopes.

 

 

 

Later, when story after story after story is told, and Siegbert finally asleep, snoring softly against his pillow, Xander lies awake in his own bed.

The loneliness would be consuming if only he weren’t so used to it.

(“Will you think about what I told you?” Roxanne had said once. They were in the hospital and Siegbert had just been born and she was sick.

Xander closed his eyes and breathed in. He held her hand more tightly. “I don’t want to forget you.”

“That is _not_ what I meant,” she said, and sighed.“I just want someone to take care of you.”

“I can take care of myself,” he said.

“You say that,” she said. “You think you can do it, and I know that you will find some way or another to do it, but it will be hard. It’s hard, Xander, and harsh. I don’t want that for you.”

Xander did not answer.

“Look at me,” Roxanne said, and Xander listened. “I’m not saying that—that you have to, that if you don’t have someone you’ll be miserable forever. Just… don’t be afraid to love again, okay? It would be nice if there was somebody who would remind you to take a break from work, and I can’t do that from the grave, you know.”

The words were said lightly but they hit Xander hard. “Don’t. Don’t say things like that,” he says. “Please.”

Roxanne frowned. “Sorry,” she said. A moment of hesitation. “I… I don’t want you to forget me, either.”

“I won’t,” said Xander. “Not ever.”)

Xander thinks of Inigo, and sighs.

They would make quick friends, Xander imagines. Roxanne did not dance, but she always had a great fascination with those who do. She played piano, better than Xander ever did, and he knows that she would have loved to play something for Inigo to dance to.

He might've found that love Roxanne had wanted him to find with Inigo, maybe. It was like... there was something just _there_ , that given time his attraction could grow into love, deep and sincere. But with what’s been happening between them for the past few weeks, he doesn’t know.

(He says that it's what Roxanne would have wanted, but deep inside he knows it's what he wants, too. He was used to the loneliness, but that never meant that he liked it.)

Xander tries telling himself that they’ll work things out soon enough. He doesn’t sleep well that night.

 

* * *

 

The weather is clear and fine on the day of Corrin and Silas’s engagement party, perfect for a outdoor dinner in the backyard of Silas’ parents’ home. Xander had been invited a few weeks ago, and had made arrangements to pick Siegbert up from school himself that day so that Corrin and Silas could prepare for the party.

When he gets to the kindergarten, he finds Siegbert with Inigo and his daughter Soleil. They’re the only ones around, so Xander assumes that all the other kids have gone home already. A slight sense of guilt pricks his chest for not coming earlier and making Siegbert wait so long.

They’re talking about something, though honestly it was mostly more of Soleil talking and the other two listening. Soleil talks loudly and quickly, making big movements with her hands, probably reenacting something, while Inigo nods his head and says “uh-huh” or “go on” every five seconds with a smile on his face. Siegbert sits and watches.

Xander squares his shoulders before approaching them.

“And then Nick goes like _this_ , and then Judy is all like _‘aaaaaah!’_ and then Nick goes ‘ _YAAHHHH!’_ and _then_ —Oh, hi, Mr. Siegbert’s Dad!”

Siegbert and Inigo both turn to see him. Something shifts in Inigo’s face, and he loses his cheery expression. Xander feels a heavy weight in his chest when he assumes that it's discomfort. 

Any negative feelings are pushed aside, however, when Siegbert gets up to hug him, beaming. “Papa! You're picking me up!”

“That's right," Xander says. "Did you forget?”

“Maybe,” Siegbert says.

“I was just telling Sieggy about this movie!” Soleil says. “It’s super cool but he hasn’t seen it yet so I showed him!”

“I don’t think Siegbert needs to see the movie anymore, considering that you’ve told him everything that happens in it already, dear,” Inigo chides.

“What? No, I haven’t!” Soleil says. “Not _everything_!”

“Mr. Inigo, I’m going to my auntie’s enragement party today!” Siegbert tells him, bouncing on his heels.

“ _Engagement_ party, Siegbert,” Xander corrects, a fond smile forming on his lips.

“Oh, really, now?” Inigo says. “Do you know what that means?”

“Um… yes!” Siegbert answers. “Papa told me before. En-gage-ment means Auntie Corrin and Uncle Silas are getting married. Right, Papa?”

Siegbert turns to look at Xander, and so do Soleil and Inigo. Xander’s throat tightens when he and Inigo lock gazes. Inigo’s looking at him blankly and he can’t read his face.

“Ah,” Xander chokes out. “Yes. That’s right.” He clears his throat. “Siegbert, it’s time to go. I promised Corrin I would help prepare the dinner and we shouldn’t be late.

“Okay, Papa,” Siegbert says. “Goodbye, Soleil! Bye, Mr. Inigo!”

Xander takes Siegbert by the hand and they turn to leave, with Xander trying to walk as fast as possible without giving Siegbert a hard time. It’s best to get out of here as soon as they can. Best to forget the inscrutable way Inigo looked at him.

“W-Wait… Xander!”

Xander halts, and so does Siegbert. He looks over his shoulder.

Inigo’s distressed. To his right, Soleil looked worried about him. There’s something in his eyes that Xander can’t place, but he doesn’t like the feeling it gives him. Inigo looks down at the ground. “I… I just…”

Xander takes a few steps forward, Siegbert trailing behind. “Yes?”

“I… wanted to say that I…” Inigo bites his lip. “That I…”

Xander steps closer. If he reaches out his arm, he could touch him. His heart is racing. “Yes…?” he says again, expecting.

Inigo inhales. He doesn’t say anything for a while. Then, “nothing,” he says, shrugging. “Just… don’t forget about the field trip. It’s next month.” He flashes a smile that Xander recognizes, one given to him one day at a bus stop in the midst of a downpour, faint and subdued.

“Oh,” Xander says. “Okay.”

He feels a tug on his shirt. “Papa?” says Siegbert. “A-Are you all right?”

“Yes,” Xander replies. “Yes, I’m fine.” He turns back to Inigo once more. “We really should be going.”

“Right,” Inigo says, with his arms wrapped around himself. He looks pained, and he bites his lip again like there’s something else he wants to say. Beside him, Soleil darts her gaze from her father to Xander and back again, concerned.

A naive sense of hope prompts Xander to wait, to give time for Inigo to say whatever is on his mind. But Inigo merely shifts his eyes away, and says nothing.

Sparing one last glance over his shoulder, Xander leaves, with his hand on Siegbert’s back, leading the both of them away.

 

* * *

 

Owain and Inigo have been friends since they were babies. Owain has seen Inigo cry on the first day of school, be dumped by his senior prom date, and embarrass himself by doing wild shit while drunk at his first college party. In turn, Inigo has witnessed all of Owain’s incredibly weird phases, including that one year in elementary where he ran everywhere with his arms flying behind him, just like Naruto.

They used to fight a lot as kids (because Inigo was a jerk at age seven), but now are practically brothers in everything but blood. Naturally Owain would be able to tell when Inigo is upset.

And he has been for quite some time now.

Earlier, Owain had run into Siegbert and his father in the hallway, after school hours. He exchanged a polite hello with Mr. de Nohr and a high-five with Siegbert as he passed by.

Now, he finds, Inigo with Soleil in his classroom. Inigo sits at the desk, handling some papers, nodding along to some story Soleil was telling.

Most other people wouldn’t notice anything, wouldn’t see that Inigo was actually troubled, with the smile on his face and easy way he carries himself. But Owain does, because Owain knows what Inigo’s real smile is like, and it definitely isn't _that_.

It’s especially disquieting now because he’s with Soleil. Even with his daughter, he feels the need to always put up a cheerful front.

“Odin Dark has made his entrance!” Owain booms, walking towards them.

“Oh, hi!” Inigo says. “I was just finishing up here.”

“Hello, Uncle Owain!” Soleil says. 

“Hey there, princess,” Owain says, messing Soleil’s hair. “How was school?”

“It was fun!” Soleil answers. “One of my classmate’s parents came and told us about washing our hands. She was a doctor.”

Owain nods, stroking his chin. “I see, I see!” he says. “Washing your hands _is_ an incredibly important thing to do.”

Inigo puts aside his papers. “So what’s up?”

“The sorcerer of darkness would like to inquire if our arrangements on the morrow will continue.”

Inigo rolls his eyes. “Yes, I’m free for bowling night tomorrow.”

“Sweet!” Owain says. “I’ll go text Severa if she can come, too.”

“Me!” Soleil says. “I want to go!”

Inigo laughs. “I’m sorry, buttercup. You’re too young for that. Bowling balls are quite heavy.”

Soleil pouts. “Awwww.”

Owain clears his throat. “Actually, Inigo, there was something I needed to talk to you about.” He glances at Soleil apologetically. “Uh, alone. Sorry, kiddo.”

“Now you’re kicking me out, too?” Soleil says. “You’re so mean…"

“No, I’m not!” Owain insists. “It’s just… boring work stuff, anyway. You’d just be bored.”

“Why don’t you go play outside for a while?” Inigo says. “Sorry, dear. We won’t take long, I promise.”

Soleil goes out into the playground, bringing the class’ pet guinea pig with her (with Inigo’s permission). She and the guinea pig stay where Owain and Inigo can see her from the window, playing on the grass.

“Okay, this will be quick,” Owain says. “Because I feel bad about sending Soleil to play outside by herself.”

“She does have Mr. McFluffycheeks with her, though,” Inigo says. “Anyway, what is it? You said it was a work thing. Something wrong?”

Owain scratches the back of his neck. “Um… yeah, about that. I made that up,” he says. “It’s just that… well, recently, you’ve been looking so upset! What’s been up with you lately, Inigo?”

“I…” Inigo says, knitting his brows together. Then he shakes himself and gives Owain another of those practiced smiles. “You’re mistaken. Everything’s fine.”

Owain gives an exasperated sigh. “No, it isn’t,” he says. “Why do I have this feeling that it’s because of the Xander guy?”

Inigo flushes, frowning. “W-Why would you think that?” he sputters.

“One, you talk about him _all the time_ ,” Owain says, counting on his fingers. “Well… you used to. You suddenly just stopped, for some reason. _Suspicious_.” (Inigo scoffs.) “Two, I just saw him and Siegbert going home, meaning that you and he probably crossed paths, and I’m ASSUMING that he is the root of your melancholy.” (Inigo scoffs again, sounding more offended this time.) “Aha! My theory proves correct. Finally, three. Clearly, you like him.”

Inigo chokes on air, sputtering. “How—how—“

“What?” Owain says, shrugging. “Duh. It’s obvious.”

Inigo sinks into his chair, face still red. “I don’t even flirt with him…”

“Yeah, but you always make gross goo-goo eyes at him, which is what you always do when you actually do like someone for real,” Owain points out. “Case in point: Gerome.”

“Shut up!” Inigo cries, leaning forward and slamming his fists on his desk indignantly. “That was back in high school!”

“Hey, didn’t you have a crush on Lucina, too? In elementary?” Owain says. “Wait a second… oh my god. I’m sensing a pattern here…Strong, cool, mature, actually has a big heart—well, it’s kind of stretching it with Gerome—you have a type!”

Inigo glares at him from across the table. It’s not very intimidating. “Are you finished?” he bites out.

“Hmm. I do think I’ve made my point on _that_ topic,” Owain says. “But! We are not done here yet. You haven’t answered my REAL question! What’s bothering you, Inigo? Come on. I just want to help you!”

Inigo fidgets. “It’s not really important…”

“It’s upsetting you, it’s got to be important,” Owain says. “Come on, it’s only me.”

Inigo presses his lips together. After a while, he finally relents. “Fine. I’ll tell you,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “It’s just that… well. Xander and I haven’t been talking. There. That’s why I’m … upset.” He forces the word out of his mouth.

“Really? He’s just ignoring you?” Owain says. “What a jerk! I’ll go round him up and—“

“What?” Inigo says. “No! God. It’s not his fault!"

“Huh?” Owain says. “Then what?”

“Ugh, because…” Inigo says. “Because it’s complicated!”

“Aw, fine,” Owain says. “But that’s it? You’re sad because the both of you aren’t talking?”

Inigo shifts his gaze. “Y-Yeah. I guess,” he says.

“Okay. I see,” Owain says. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

“No,” Inigo says. “It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.”

Owain sighs. “All right,” he says. “Hey. Thanks for telling me. If you need anything, I’m here, okay?”

Inigo smiles, and Owain’s glad to see it’s not a fake one like before. “I know. Thank you, Owain,” he says. “You know… it’s rather jarring to see you be so mature about this. In a good way, of course.”

Owain chuckles. “The darkness serves whoever is worthy.”

Inigo snorts. “Nerd.”

“Asshole.”

“Dweeb.”

“Jerk.”

They both laugh. Soon Owain has to go, and so he leaves Inigo to do his work. Soleil’s invited to come back inside, but it turns out that she’s too engrossed in playing pirates with Mr. McFluffycheeks. Inigo lets her stay in the playground while he goes to finish working. Owain leaves out the door.

And starts hatching his Plan.

 

* * *

 

The preparations for Corrin and Silas’s engagement party had gone swimmingly. Xander and Camilla, being the better cooks among the siblings, were tasked to help prepare the dinner—although Corrin had also asked her friend Jakob to come along, and with his superior culinary skillshe quickly took charge of everything that went on in the kitchen, making sure that everything went _perfectly_ for his best friend’s party. Xander is a bit embarrassed to admit that he and Camilla were reduced to carrying out Jakob’s orders, cutting vegetables and measuring ingredients. (Meanwhile, Silas let Siegbert help him with decorations.)

Evening rolls around, and guests start to mill in. It wasn’t a large crowd, just an intimate gathering of family and friends. 

“Azura!” Corrin says, enveloping her friend in a big hug. “It’s so good to see you, it’s been so long! How are you?”

Azura sits at their table and tells them how she got in the ensemble cast of some musical at the city theater, slowly fulfilling her dream. Xander doesn’t recognize the title, but it got quite a few gasps and _oooh_ ’s (especially from Elise), so it must be a big achievement.

Amidst all the conversation, Camilla slides into the chair beside him. “We haven’t gotten to talk all day," she says.

“I was too busy shredding the cabbages,” Xander says. “And re-shredding them because Jakob thought that I was shredding them too thinly the first time. And re-shredding them and re-shredding them…”

Camilla laughs. “How are you?”

“Fine. The same.”

“Then you’re still not fine,” Camilla says.

Xander sighs. “Can we not talk about that right now?”

Camilla purses her lips. “All right. It _is_ a party,” she says. “Where’s Siegbert?”

“With Forrest. They’re playing.” He sips his drink. “You know, he asked me if father was going to be here.”

Garon wasn’t. Corrin invited him because she had to, naturally, but Garon claimed that he was too busy. All of the siblings breathed a collective sigh of relief.

“Really?” Camilla asks, frowning.

“He’s scared of him,” Xander says. “I’m… I’m so angry. He already has us terrified of him, why does he need my son to be scared, too?”

“Shhh.” Camilla rubs Xander's arm. “Party, remember?”

“I know,” Xander grumbles. “But it’s unfair. Cam, how do I fix this?”

“I’m afraid I don’t always have all the answers,” Camilla says. “You said it yourself. Even _we_ are scared of him. And we don’t know how to stop being scared.”

Xander looks down at his drink. He can faintly hear Siegbert and Forrest laughing somewhere behind him. If Garon were around, would the both of them still be laughing? Would they still act like the children they are?

“Hey, everyone!” Corrin shouts. She’s always been a loud person. “Azura says she’s going to sing for us!”

Azura steps into the front and starts singing a soothing tune. Xander knows her voice is beautiful, but he can’t focus enough to put together the lyrics.

 

* * *

  

One of the things that came with not talking to Inigo was not going to the coffeeshop. It was simple. It was obvious.

Inigo’s a regular, and even though Xander knows that he usually came on Friday evenings before heading to his ballet class, Xander still didn’t want to risk it. The mornings in the classroom were bad enough already. For the past few weeks he’s been surviving on the bland blend from the office coffee machine and Starbucks.

But after a long, tiring day, all Xander wants is _coffee_.

Standing in front of the Starbucks in the office building, Xander takes in with disappointment the longest line he’s seen, filled with tired employees, just like Xander. The two lone baristas ran back and forth and back and forth, frantically trying to take everyone’s orders and make all their drinks.

A half hour’s wait isn’t something Xander’s looking forward to. And he isn’t too keen on going back up to his floor for watery coffee. He needs his caffeine, and he needs it now. Besides, he needs to pick Siegbert up.

(He briefly considers buying from the place that sold pastries, where there was no line at all. But there was a reason why nobody went there. Wormwood would be less bitter than their coffee.)

Xander sighs.

What’s he so afraid of, anyway? Seeing Inigo? _Yes_ , his mind supplies, _exactly that._ But he doesn’t have any reason to be, not any rational reason, that is. For god’s sake, he is not a child.

Xander curses in his mind resignedly. Coffeeshop it is.

Everything’s better with a plan, he thinks. As Xander walks out the office building and towards the direction of the coffeeshop, he starts drawing out what he’s going to do. There are two possible scenarios: either he doesn’t run into Inigo, or he does. If he doesn’t, then fine. If Inigo’s there, Xander’s not going to say anything until Inigo comes up to him first; even then, a simple nod of acknowledgement or a small “hello” is all he’s going to allow himself. Don’t stop and chat. Don’t look at him for too long. Just order the coffee and get out of there as fast as he can.

He stops in front of the coffeeshop. 

It’s almost always on the back of his mind, just there, but now it’s here right in his face, too real and clear: ringing laughter, a shared slice of cake. Rain, a small umbrella, the warmth of having someone beside you. A smile that never quite reached the eyes.

Suddenly he isn’t feeling so eager for coffee anymore.

He turns to leave. Then, someone shouts his name.

Xander looks over his shoulder to see Owain running towards him, hands waving in the air. “Aha! Yes! It’s you!” Owain cries out in triumph. He cringes and coughs into his fist. “Ah… what a coincidence. To find you here.”

“Yes,” Xander says slowly, narrowing his eyes at him. “Coincidence indeed.”

“Well!” Owain says. He looks tired, and maybe a bit sweaty. “I am _so glad_ to run into you. You see, Inigo really needs your help!”

“What?” Xander says, stepping forward. “Inigo is in trouble?”

“Trouble! That’s it!” Owain says, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Please, he is in desperate need of your assistance. Would you help him?”

There was something that felt oddly suspicious about this, and yet Xander couldn’t shake it away. What if Inigo actually was in trouble? Xander doesn’t know what he would do if Inigo got hurt while knowing he could’ve prevented it. Owain is a kindergarten teacher, he tells himself. Kindergarten teachers are trustworthy people.

“Fine,” Xander says, rubbing his hand over his forehead. “Fine. I’ll help. Where is he?”

Xander follows Owain through the streets. Owain told him that it was only nearby. He doesn’t seem to be in a hurry or have a sense of urgency whatsoever. Xander starts worrying. He wonders if this really is the right move; minutes ago he was telling himself that if he saw Inigo he wouldn’t even talk to the man. Now he was going out of his way to supposedly help him? What is he _doing_?

No, he thinks to himself. Inigo could be in danger. What was he going to do, sit idly and do nothing to aid someone he considers a friend?

_Considered a friend_ , his mind says. _Why do you act like you’re still allowed to call him one?_ Xander shakes it away. That’s not important right now. He should be able to set aside petty issues if someone needs his help.

“All right,” Owain says. “This is it!”

It’s an expensive restaurant. No, it’s _the expensive_  restaurant—in the area, at least. Xander has come here many times in the past, for meetings or stiff family dinners with his father. 

He faces Owain, his brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a frown. “I’m sorry,” he says, “but is this a joke?”

“What?” Owain says, blinking in surprise. “No! No joke. Inigo’s in there. And he needs help.”

“Inigo needs my help,” Xander says flatly.

“Yes,” Owain says.

“Inigo needs my help in this French seafood restaurant.”

“… Yes.”

Xander scoffs in disbelief. “For what? Does he need someone to pay his bill?”

Owain bites the inside of his cheek. “Not exactly?”

Xander glares at him. He can see Owain exerting a lot of effort into maintaining a straight face. Sighing, he checks his watch. “I should go.”

“Wait!” Owain grabs his arm before he can leave. “Just… go inside? He's there. Go inside. Please?”

Owain’s looking at him with such a sincere expression, like he just really wants Xander to go to Inigo and everything will all be better if he just did. He’s got this sinking feeling that Inigo isn’t in any sort of trouble at all. But the thing is, Xander’s always been weak to these kind of things, like how Elise used to beg him for piggyback rides, or Siegbert asking for just one more bedtime story. It’s even worse when it’s concerning someone who cares about, and—no matter how many times he tries to bury it—Inigo matters to him _a lot_. 

He turns his head to look at Owain before going in. Owain gives him a big smile and a thumbs-up. Xander takes in a deep breath before entering through the doors.

The serene piano music playing in the air does nothing to calm his nerves. It was not time for lunch or dinner so the restaurant was not full, but there were still some people around, well-dressed and heavily-perfumed. The kind of people Xander was surrounded by, growing up in a big mansion with big, classy parties.

A sharply-dressed waiter in a bowtie attends to him immediately. “Good afternoon, sir. Do you have a reservation?”

Xander looks over the waiter’s shoulder, past tables with fine china, and sees a familiar face sitting alone at the end of the room in a corner. “No,” he says, not taking his eyes off Inigo. “But I’m here to meet someone.”

The waiter nods once and leaves him. Xander walks over to Inigo, his heartbeat drumming faster with each step.

“Inigo.”

Inigo jumps, startled. He looks up at him with wide, confused eyes. “ _Xander_?”

“Well,” Xander says. “Yes.”

“Oh my god.” Inigo covers his face with his hands. “I swear I didn’t set this up. Please believe me.”

“I believe you,” Xander says softly. He gestures to the empty chair opposite Inigo. “May I sit?”

Inigo nods, and Xander sits down. 

“I honestly have no idea what is going on right now,” Inigo tells him. “All I know is that Owain pushed me in here saying he got a reservation and—“ Inigo freezes. His mouth contorts into a snarl. “ _Owain._ ”

“He’s also the one who brought me here,” Xander tries to add helpfully.

Inigo lets out a deep breath. “I’m going to kill him,” he says. “Really. I could put his entire collection of Lord of the Rings through the shredder and he would literally die.”

Xander’s heart sinks. His posture in his chair remains flawless, his back ramrod-straight. He looks down at his hands neatly folded on the table. “Is it really that bad?” he asks quietly. “To be here with me.”

“N-No,” Inigo says. “That’s not what I meant, I…” he sighs. “I’m sorry. I just… feel uncomfortable here. As in, in this place.”

Xander looks around them, at the wealthy patrons sipping their wine. “I can see why,” he says. “To be honest with you, I don’t want to be here either… and I have to go pick up my son soon. We could just leave if you want to.”

Inigo leans forward, cupping a hand over the side of his mouth. “I thought about leaving too,” he whispers, careful to not let the people around them hear. “But… wouldn’t it be incredibly rude to just, you know, get up and walk out?  We didn't even order anything, it’d be embarrassing… especially at a place as high-end as this."

Xander hums, frowning. “I suppose you have a point there,” he whispers back. “What should we do?”

“Okay. Wait. I’m thinking,” Inigo says. He gasps, and his eyes light up. “Oh! What if we pretend we have an emergency?”

Xander raises a brow. “Pretend?”

“Maybe you can pretend to have a heart attack or something,” Inigo suggests. “And then… we could… stealthily slip out while everyone is panicking?”

“And what if the restaurant calls an ambulance?” Xander says. “We’ll just cause a lot of trouble.”

“Ugh. You’re right,” Inigo says. “Damn it, think, think… Ah! Okay. Okay.” He rubs his hands together. “I got an idea.” He brings out his phone.

“What is it?” Xander asks, trying to see what he’s doing.

Inigo types away lightning-fast. “Shhh.”

“Inigo—“

Inigo holds up a finger. “ _Shhh._ ”

Xander's frown deepens. Inigo stops typing and puts his phone down on the table. “Now what?” Xander asks.

“Now we wait,” Inigo says.

They don’t wait for long. Inigo’s phone rings only seconds later. He answers it. “Hello?”

Xander watches as Inigo nods along, his actions strangely a bit exaggerated. “Mm-hmm. Mm-hmm.” Inigo’s eyes widen, almost comically, and he speaks in a voice loud enough for the whole restaurant to hear. “Oh, _what_? _What_? You’re saying the pipe below the sink blew up and now my house is flooded?”

He honestly doesn’t even sound very distressed about the idea. He’s just _loud._ By now Xander has caught on that Inigo’s just acting, and he covers his mouth to stifle his laugh. They’re getting quite a few looks now. One middle-aged lady wearing pearl earrings eyes them with distaste.

“… Yes, yes,” Inigo continues, “we’ll be there right away! Don’t worry! Yes, we’ll leave right now.” Ending the call and putting the phone back in his pocket, he gets up from his chair abruptly, signalling for Xander to follow him.

The waiter at the door stops them, concerned. “Sir, is there anything we can do to offer our assistance?”

“Oh, no, no,” Inigo says, waving his hand. “We’ll handle this on our own—we're _so_ sorry that we have to go.“

“Of course, sir. We understand,” the waiter says. “We hope that you can dine with us some other time—“

“Yes, yes!” Inigo says, rushing the words out his mouth. “But we should really leave now—goodbye!”

To Xander’s surprise, Inigo grabs hold of his hand, hurling out the door and pulling him behind him. They’re running down the street, with Xander struggling to catch up in his shock because _Inigo is holding his hand._ He hears Inigo’s light, excited laughter, and Inigo’s looking back at him for a split second and Xander catches his smile, and he realizes how much he’s missed this. Missed him.

                                                           

They turn at the corner, and finally stop.

“Well,” Inigo says, panting heavily. He’s still smiling. “So we’re out of there, thank God.”

“Yeah,” Xander says. He’s a bit out of breath as well.

Neither of them say anything for a moment.

Xander clears his throat. “I should be getting back.”

Inigo’s face drops. “Now? Can’t you—can’t you stay for just a little while longer?”

“To do what?” Xander says.

“To _talk,_ ” Inigo says.

And there it is again. The face, the pleading, the honesty. Xander sighs.

“You didn’t want to talk before, though,” he says, and feels guilty when Inigo’s expression turns to hurt.

“I… I know,” Inigo says. He runs a hand through his hair. “God, I’m so stupid.”

“You’re not,” Xander says.

“I am,” Inigo says. “But… I want you to know that it’s not like I’m… mad at you, or anything,” Inigo says weakly.

“Neither am I,” Xander says.

Inigo gives him a tiny smile, and it feels like waking up to a perfect, sunny day after a night of thunderstorms. Xander thinks he should smile back, but he can’t move.

“Xander… what happened?” Inigo asks. His smile has shifted to something sadder, like remembering a fond memory from a time well past. “We don’t talk anymore. I… I miss you. I miss our conversations in the mornings.”

A warm flood of relief flows through Xander’s body. He isn’t the only one. Inigo misses him too. “I do, too,” he says. “I was only under the impression that you didn’t want us to be close anymore, after what you told me.”

Inigo frowned. “I don’t!” he says. “I just… didn’t know how to talk to you after that, and I got scared, then I panicked… and then we weren’t talking and we just kept on _not talking_ and I—I didn’t know what to do.”

“Oh," Xander says. “This whole problem would’ve been solved a lot earlier if we just stopped and thought for a moment, wouldn’t it?”

Inigo laughs. “I guess that makes the both of us idiots.”

Xander smiles. “I suppose that’s true.”

“You mean a lot to me, Xander,” Inigo says. “I know it may seem weird considering that we haven’t known each other for long, but… I can't stand the thought of the two of us not even being friends.”

“Me, too,” Xander says. And he means it.

“Hey,” Inigo says. “You said you need to pick Siegbert up, right? Can we talk while walking?”

They walk side by side. Xander was a good deal taller, and yet their strides matched, their steps in sync with each other. Inigo tells him more about why his job is so important to him: he tells him about being a shy child, how his mother told him talking to girls would boost his confidence. How everyone viewed him as an immature flirt.

“… And then, of course, I had Soleil,” Inigo says, a fond smile growing on his face. “I love her, you know? I love her to bits. She’s the most perfect ball of sunshine in the world… and I was so scared that I couldn’t be a good father. It’s hard not to be scared when practically everyone’s been shaking their heads at you for being so irresponsible pretty much your whole life.”

Xander understands. He remembers being left alone, wondering how he was going to raise this tiny little baby all on his own—but this isn’t about him right now, so he doesn’t say anything.

“I became a teacher, right?” Inigo says. “I don’t know… I’ve always loved kids. And if I could be a good teacher, it could serve as proof.”

“Of what?” Xander asks.

Inigo shrugs. “That I can be mature, I guess. Enough to be a good dad.” He stops walking. “We’re here, right?”

Xander looks up. They’d arrived at his office building, the silver letters boasting _NOHR CORPORATION_ proudly displayed above the entrance.

“We are,“ Xander says. He turns back to Inigo. “You know, I used to be very shy, too. When I was younger.”

Inigo raises a brow, amused. “Really? You?” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smile. “I can’t imagine it.”

“It’s true,” Xander says. “I was so afraid of speaking in front of an audience. I had to imagine everyone as bunnies to make myself do it.”

Inigo nearly doubles over in laughter. “Oh my god, that is _adorable_. I’m trying to imagine it… little baby Xander.” Inigo snorts.

Xander smiles. He didn’t usually share that fact about him with other people, but he was glad it managed to cheer Inigo up even just a little bit.

“You know,” he says. “Teacher or not, I think you’re a very good father.”

Inigo’s lips curl up. “You flatterer.”

“No, I mean it,” Xander says. “Soleil’s always so happy, and she’s a very nice girl. I don’t think she would have turned out like that if she wasn’t raised well.”

Inigo blinks. “Oh,” he says. “Well… thank you.”

“There’s no need to thank me. Just stating what is,” Xander says. “I’ll see you tomorrow in the morning?”

“Yeah,” Inigo says, the smile not ever leaving his face. “See you.”

Xander claps his hand on Inigo’s shoulder, then retreats into the building. His own smile doesn’t ever vanish as well, not even as he got into the parking lot, not even as he drove to Corrin’s, not even as he brought Siegbert home.

 

* * *

 

“… Papa?”

“Yes?”

“You look happy.”

A smile. “I _am_ happy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope this chapter's ending makes up for the last one. Some of you guys yelled at me for that... this is kinda my way of saying sorry? so there, you have my apology, in the form of happy smiles and happy inigo and happy xander.
> 
> No definite date for the next chapter, like last time :( I'm so sorry!! I will try to get it on schedule this time though :'( You may check my tumblr [@transientvision](http://transientvision.tumblr.com) for updates :)
> 
>  **08/08/16:** Made some edits in one part! The two mothers briefly shown are actually canon characters. They should be more recognizable now! (....I hope so)


	6. Inigo Takes Care of Xander

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> uh so so sorry for the mess of emails ppl who are subscribed to this must've gotten, but this is the Real Deal now istg
> 
> thanks to my friend[@dorkpatroller](http://dorkpatroller.tumblr.com) who read this over for me (and also is the person who listened to me die while i had to fix this mess with the chapters). she writes a lot of good xanlow fic so check out her stuff too!! also, there is a notable amount of hamilton references in this. and an entire portion thats basically a homage to bunheads. the reason why inigo and olivia are my fav characters is bc i can use them as excuses to reference ballet and theatre.
> 
> next chapter title: xander takes care of inigo

Xander finds that he's quite content with his life right now—well, if he doesn’t think about Garon or his job or Nohr Corp. at all, that is.

It’s a nice Monday morning, nice because the sky is clear and blue, the traffic wasn't so bad, and Inigo’s going on telling him about his weekend, talking with his hands and a big smile on his face. Today Inigo's telling him about a student who just enrolled in his mother's ballet class. “Seriously, that girl’s double pirouette is so perfect it's _insane_ ,” he says. “Thing is, ballet is pretty much the only thing she knows how to do, and all she does is practice, practice, practice… doesn't watch TV, doesn’t go out with friends, doesn’t have Twitter. She doesn’t even know who Taylor Swift is!”

The corner of Xander’s lips quirk up. “How tragic. I can't imagine it.” He feels slightly proud of himself for actually recognizing who Taylor Swift is. (Elise makes him listen to that kind of music in the car whenever he gives her rides.)

Inigo blinks, frowning. “Oh, no,” he says. “I was rambling again, wasn’t I? I’m so sorry, sometimes I get so talkative, I’ll stop now—“

“No, no,” Xander says, holding out his hands. “It’s fine. Really. I rather like listening to you.”

Inigo flushes, but there’s a smile on his face. “You're just saying that.”

“I’m not. I mean it,” Xander says. His phone pings, and Xander fishes it out of his pocket to see a reminder telling him that he has a meeting in thirty minutes. “I also happen to need to go back to the office now.”

“Oh,” Inigo says. He visibly deflates, like a sad beach ball without air.

“I swear I’m not using this as an excuse to escape your long-winded stories,” Xander says. He stops, and winces. “Phrased like that, it does sound like I’m trying to get away.”

“Oh, only a little bit,” Inigo says, laughing. Xander smiles at the sound.

“I swear I’m not.”

“Okay, you’re not,” Inigo says, still smiling. He starts pushing Xander away towards the door. “Now, go, you have a meeting! Can’t leave those saggy old men in suits waiting.”

“I’m in a suit, too.”

“You’re not saggy,” Inigo says. They pass by Siegbert and Soleil playing. “Siegbert, say goodbye to your father!”

“Oh, Siegbert’s dad is leaving?” Soleil says. “Bye-bye, Tall Mister!”

“Papa, don't forget to eat properly later," Siegbert says. He turns to Inigo. “Yesterday, Papa forgot to eat lunch because he was too busy.”

“I didn't forget," Xander says, almost-grumbling.

Siegbert puts his hands on his hips. It's adorable. “Raisins don't count, Papa!”

“Xander!” Inigo says, lightly slapping him on the arm. “You should take care of yourself. And listen to your son, he's very smart.” At this, Siegbert grins. Inigo tiptoes to hiss something in his ear. "Be a good role model! We are _adults_."

“I am being a proper adult,” Xander says. “By working.”

Inigo slaps him on the arm again. “Just get out of here already, doofus, you have a meeting.”

“All right, all right, I’m going,” Xander says. Nobody outside his siblings has ever dared to call him anything like “doofus”.

Before he goes out the door, Xander looks at the three of them—Inigo wishing him a good day, Soleil pulling Siegbert away for some more play time before class starts—and he thinks, I could live like this.

 

 

Of course it’s back to business the moment he steps into the office building. No more laughs and friendly banter, just paperwork and meetings.

“Good morning, Mr. Xander!” Peri says, chipper as usual. At least not everything in the office is dull and dead. (Xander honestly has no idea why Peri has gotten away with her hair this long without getting reprimanded. He himself doesn’t mind, but blue-and-pink hair certainly does not help uphold the formal, professional office tone.)

“Good morning. Is there anything for me today?” Xander says, passing by her desk after getting out of his meeting.

“Uh-huh,” Peri says. “Mr. Garon wants to see you in his office later at eleven-thirty.”

Xander clenches his jaw. “Did he say what he wants to see me for,” he says. It comes out in a levelled tone.

Peri shakes her head. “Nope. He just sent someone down here to tell me he wanted to see you.”

It doesn’t matter, Xander tells himself. He knows what it’s for. “Thank you, Peri,” he says, opens the door to his office, and goes inside.

 

 

“Father.”

“Xander,” Garon says. He’s leaning back on his chair behind his desk, looking at Xander with a furrowed brow. “Have a seat.”

Xander sits in one of the stiff, black chairs. Garon’s office was dimly-lit, and everything was dark-colored. There were wide, tall windows that would have had a very nice view of the city if they weren’t covered up by heavy curtains. Garon’s study in their family house was like this, and as a child Xander often wondered if his father was some sort of vampire.

In his old age Garon’s posture was not what it once was, proud and strong, and for a long time Xander was the one who stood taller, even when seated. Yet Garon still terrified him—a fear which was only amplified by the fact that before he entered Garon’s office earlier he heard the words “You’re _fired_!” being shouted from the other side, and a young woman sobbing with her hands over her face running out of the room right after.

Xander has cultivated a certain proficiency in the art of masking one’s emotions over the years, but when it comes to his father his facade does not matter, even if he wills his expression to be as blank and professional as it can be. Xander is scared of him and Garon knows, and Garon uses this knowledge to his advantage frequently.

Garon leans forward and steeples his fingers together. “So you won't be attending the business conference next week.”

Xander levels his gaze. “That is true.”

“Why?” Garon asks. The way he says it cuts sharply, like a knife, but Xander is prepared. He’s expected this, after all.

“I have prior engagements on the same day of the conference,” Xander says. "I cannot attend.”

“Prior engagements,” Garon repeats. “Would you care to elaborate on these engagements you have made that are clearly so much more important than your work?”

Xander’s brow furrows for a fraction of a second, and he slips back into professionalism. “It’s Siegbert’s field trip. I’ve promised him that I would go.”

Garon’s face crumples up, a familiar sign that means he’s about to be furious. “Cancel it.”

Xander narrows his eyes. “Excuse me?”

“Cancel it!” Garon says, throwing his hands up. “Tell him you can’t go. It’s a field trip, Xander. There’ll be teachers, he doesn’t need you. He can go by himself.”

“Siegbert is in kindergarten,” Xander says through gritted teeth. “He is five years old.”

“The boy doesn’t need you holding his hand every single moment of his life,” Garon snarled. “What kind of father would you be?”

Xander wanted to yell at him. _What right do you have to tell me I’m not raising my son correctly_ , his mind screamed. _What right do you have to tell me about fatherhood_. Instead he remains seated, mouth clamped shut, jaw clenched so tightly it hurts.

“I am a man of my word, Father.”

Garon inhales through his nostrils, bristling. “Do you not know how important this is?”

“I do.” Of course he does. It’s what’s been drilled into him since the very beginning: _this conference is very important. This corporation is very important. You will be the CEO someday and every move you make is very important._

Garon leans back into his chair again, breathing in and exhaling deeply. “This isn’t just about the conference anymore. Your decision in this matter reflects your priorities. I am very disappointed in you, Xander.”

The only thought going through Xander’s mind is, _I am tired of this_ , and before he knows it he’s standing up from his seat abruptly, getting up to his full height, the legs of his chair harshly scraping against the floor. He towers over Garon now, his clenched fists at his sides. “If it means that my priority is my son over anything else,” he says, seething, “then I find no reason to ever be ashamed of that.”

His heart is beating fast, so fast. Among the De Nohr siblings he’d be the last anyone would expect to talk to Garon like this. Even kind-hearted Elise would lose control of her fire at times, and Xander was the one who always obeyed, always listened. Always nodded quietly with a simple _yes, Father_ , and nothing more.

Garon stares back at him. “When I get back from the conference and I see you,” he says in a low, lethal voice, “don’t expect me to be happy.”

“Don’t worry, Father,” Xander bites back. “I’m very aware of that.”

He catches the utter look of vexation on Garon’s face before he leaves. It almost takes him by surprise; it was not something he was used to seeing.

He walks back briskly all the way to his own office, taking the elevator and striding past Peri without saying hello. He closes the door behind him once he’s alone and slumps into his seat, staring blankly at his dark computer screen.

“What in the world did I just do,” he mutters to himself.

 

* * *

 

Siegbert hops up to where Xander was waiting for him at the front door. “I’m ready, Papa!”

“Do you have everything?” Xander asks.

“Uh-huh.”

“Jacket?”

“Yup.”

“Water jug?”

“Yes!”

“Snacks?”

“Oreos and trail mix!” Siegbert gives him an adorable thumbs-up. “I brought some for you, too, Papa, don’t worry.”

Xander smiles and ruffles Siegbert’s hair. “How very considerate of you, son. Thank you.”

In his own bag he was bringing, Xander packed everything else, and more. Lunch, an umbrella, an extra change of clothes for Siegbert, a small pillow in case Siegbert gets sleepy in the bus, flashlights and whistles for emergencies… his siblings often made fun of him in the past for his tendency to over-prepare, but Xander remained steadfast in his belief that it never hurt to be ready for any occasion.

On the ride to school, Siegbert sings a song to himself, his legs kicking back and forth. Little children sing a lot, Xander thinks. He remembers his younger siblings used to do that as well, even Leo, who was fond of singing songs like Twinkle Twinkle Little Star when he was happy. He’d never sing nowadays, of course. Xander wonders how different Siegbert would be once he's grown up.

When they park the car, the kindergarteners were all outside the school building, some of them holding the hands of their parents. A bus was beside them. The teachers were around, checking attendance and trying to get all the rowdy kids into one straight line.

“Okay, so Soleil’s here with me,” they hear Inigo say, ticking off names on a clipboard. “Velouria, present… Mitama, present… who’s missing?”

Siegbert lets go of Xander’s hand, and goes up to Inigo, tugging on the hem of his jacket. “I’m present, too, Mr. Inigo,” he says.

“Oh!” Inigo looks down at him with a smile. “Hello, there, Siegbert. Did you just arrive? Is your dad here with you?”

“I’m here,” Xander says, walking up to them. “Good morning, Inigo.”

“Morning,” Inigo chirps. “How are the both of you?”

“Siegbert is very excited,” Xander says, fondness evident in his voice, putting a hand over Siegbert’s shoulder. Siegbert blushes at the mention, and smiles shyly at the ground.

“Well, you should be!” Inigo says, leaning on his knees to address Siegbert properly. “We’re going to learn lots of things and see lots of pretty paintings today. That’s the sort of stuff you like, right?”

“Yes, Mr. Inigo,” Siegbert says timidly, nodding.

Inigo laughs, shaking his head. “Cute kid. Always so polite,” he tells Xander. “Looks like it’s going to rain, isn’t it?” he says, sparing a glance at the gray clouds hanging over them. “Good thing we’ll only be indoors today.”

“It’s good that I brought an umbrella, then,” Xander says, feeling a bit proud of how he had the forethought to bring one.

Inigo smiles. “Always so prepared, aren’t you?” he says.

“Daaaaddyyyyy,” one of the children shout, and Xander turns to see Soleil, hurtling towards her father in a pink blur. She attacks him with a hug. “When are we going to leave?”

“Soon, sweetheart,” Inigo tells her. “Be patient for now, okay? Some of your classmates aren’t here yet.” He looks over his clipboard again. “Well… now that Siegbert’s here—“

“Oh, Sieggy’s here!” Soleil says, brightening up and going over to him to hold his hand. She looks up at Xander. “Hello! Me and Sieg are buddies, so don’t worry about him getting lost because I won't lose him.”

“I-I’m not going to lose Soleil, either!” Siegbert pipes up.

“Very well,” Xander kneels down to their level and gives them a nod. "You have my trust.”

“We’re using the buddy system,” Inigo explains to Xander.

“Ah.”

Inigo goes back to his clipboard. “We should be able to leave soon… there’s only one person we’re waiting for now.”

"Really? Who is it?” Soleil asks, tiptoeing and trying to read the clipboard in Inigo’s hands. Alas, she was still too tiny, and all efforts were futile.

“It’s—“ Inigo starts, but he's soon cut off by a loud, shrill voice, accompanied by the click-clacking sound of heels on pavement.

“We’re here!” says the voice. Xander thinks, this person sounds familiar, and at the same time, I suddenly feel very annoyed for some reason.

Said person comes into view, and it's that woman from before. The one who had yelled at Inigo during report card givings (when Xander first met him—which felt like so long ago, he thinks. A million years, maybe). She had her frowning, snooty-faced son, in tow. His previous thoughts made sense now. Xander had almost forgotten about her, in all honesty.

“ _So_ sorry we’re late,” she says. “You didn’t wait too long, did you? Turned out my husband needed my car because his broke down yesterday, so we had to get an Uber…” she trails off, fishing for something in her Hermès handbag, muttering, “Now, where _is_ my phone…”

“It’s all right, Mrs. Bernard,” Inigo says, giving her a tight smile. Xander knows it’s forced; he’s starting to know how to tell the difference now. (It’s not as easy as you would think, with Inigo. It was almost like he’s been faking smiles throughout his entire life—but masks were familiar to Xander, and that, he could understand.)

Soon they all had to board the bus, and Xander’s stomach sinks with the realization that he will have to spend the next half hour or so stuck with noisy, sticky children… he’s been too preoccupied with making sure that he was a supportive parent and the looming threat of his own father that had forgotten that going with Siegbert on his field trip also meant being with his classmates. Unfortunately, not all five year-olds are quiet, behaved angels like Siegbert is.

Someone tugs on his hand. “Papa!” Siegbert says. “They’ll leave us if we don't go now.”

“Ah, right,” Xander says, blinking. He follows Siegbert into the yellow bus.

 

The first stop was not at the fine arts museum, but the children's museum—which makes sense, Xander thinks. Most small children would be bored if their field trip consisted only of paintings they couldn't touch and halls they couldn’t run around in.

Xander sits back with the other parents who came along, while a museum employee taught the kindergarteners the importance of trees and an over-simplified briefing on climate change through a puppet show.

“I’m just going to go use the restroom,” says Mrs. Bernard, standing up. “Won’t be long!”

Once she is out of sight, one of the parents leans over to whisper. “Am I the only one here who hates her?” she says. Xander recognizes her as one of the mothers Inigo was talking to weeks ago, the one who wore professional attire. “I’m not, right? I know I’m not.”

The parent beside her sighs. Xander knows her as well, she was with the other mother and Inigo back then, too. “Oboro, hun, I’ve already told you that it’s not nice to talk about other people behind their backs like this.”

“I know,” says Oboro. “But honestly, though! I can’t believe she even came. Wasn’t she the one who kept going on and on about how busy she always is during PTA meetings?”

She’s looking at Xander, like he’s supposed to answer her question. Xander frowns, because he doesn’t even go to the PTA meetings. He’s always been too busy for that (and he wonders how busy Mrs. Bernard actually was when she still had time for the PTA). “Well,” Xander starts, “apparently, yes?”

“He doesn’t go to the meetings,” the mother beside Oboro whispers to her. She turns to Xander. “I’m sorry about that. I’m Mozu, by the way. This is Oboro. You’re Siegbert’s father, aren’t you?”

“Yes, that’s right,” he says. “Xander. Pleased to meet you.” He reaches out to extend a hand to her. She shakes it with a warm smile.

“I’m sorry about my niece spilling her apple juice on your son’s paper the other day… it was an accident, I swear.”

Ah, so she was an aunt, not a mother. She did look to be a bit too young to be one. “I don’t think I’ve ever heard of that happening, but I hope Siegbert was understanding about the situation,” he says. “I assume he was. He’s surprisingly mature for his age.”

“Wait, ‘Xander’?” Oboro asks. “Do I know you? You seem… familiar.”

Xander hums. “How interesting,” he says. “I’ve had the same thoughts.”

“Are you related to Leo? De Nohr?” Oboro says.

“Ah, yes, actually,” Xander says, happy to talk about his family. “He’s my younger brother.”

“Oh! That’s it, then,” Oboro says, lightening up and smiling. “I’m Takumi’s friend. Best friend, actually. Since preschool.”

“Right, yes, yes, I’m remembering it now. We must’ve seen each other at their wedding,” he says, recalling that day fondly. Never has he seen his brother laugh more brightly than on his wedding day.

“Oh, yeah, that’s probably it,” Oboro says. “You know, his wedding would’ve been a fashion disaster if it weren’t for me. Hey, you should come to the meetings! Mozu always brings brownies. They’re the best brownies in the world.”

Mozu blushes. “W-Well… I think your lemon squares are really good, too…”

“That would be nice, yes,” Xander says. “I suppose I could try.” He doesn't think it's actually possible, though. He's just trying to be polite.

“You seem like a nice person,” Oboro says. “And Siegbert’s a good kid. It would be great to have more company around that’s not… you know,” she tilts her head in the direction of the restroom. “I swear. If I saw a Drumpf sticker on the back of her car, well, I wouldn’t be surprised. And does she really think that bag goes with the rest of her outfit—“

“Oboro,” Mozu says pointedly, pouting.

Oboro coughs. “Right, er, sorry.”

Mrs. Bernard comes back from the restroom, and everyone is quiet again. The next few minutes are nothing but the sounds of the children’s laughter and the squeaky voice the museum employee makes for the talking fox sock puppet.

Siegbert isn’t as loud as his other classmates, but he looks like he’s enjoying himself. Xander watches Soleil, sitting beside Siegbert on the carpeted floor, lean over and whisper something into his son’s ear. Whatever it was she told him, it makes Siegbert snort and burst into giggles. It makes Xander smile.

Inigo’s watching them, too, he sees, when he turns to look at him, standing beside his class. (Owain, meanwhile, is the more engaged teacher, sitting and chortling with the class like he’s a five year-old, too.) There’s a tender smile on Inigo’s face while Siegbert and Soleil exchange little jokes, laughing with each other.

Inigo catches him staring, and their eyes meet. Inigo blinks in surprise, his face a bit pink, embarrassed, but he gives Xander a small smile anyway, and waves at him. Xander gives him a timid wave back.

 

 

After a few hours, the class leaves the children’s museum. The bus ride, Xander supposes, is not really as bad the second time.

(“Aw, don’t you find this exciting?” Mozu had asked. “I haven’t ridden the bus in so long! Gosh. Brings back some good times…”

Xander never rode the bus as a kid, nor did any of his siblings. Gunter always drove them to school and back.)

When they arrive at the art museum, Siegbert is in total awe. They haven’t even gone inside yet.

“Wow,” Siegbert says, looking up at the imposing, massive structure, a billion times his size. “It’s so big. And pretty.”

“It’s prettier on the inside, you know,” Xander says, his smile evident in his voice.

“I think it’s as big as… six elephants,” Siegbert says, counting on his fingers. “No… seven.”

Xander raises a brow, amused. “Those must be very big elephants.”

“ _All_ elephants are big, Papa,” Siegbert says, as if this was very obvious and Xander was being silly. It was only missing a “ _duh_ ” at the end, except Siegbert was too polite for that.

They follow the rest of the class inside, where they meet the museum guide who gives them a brief, child-friendly rundown of the museum’s purpose and history. They’re shown down halls with walls and walls of paintings, some small and charming and others grand and lifelike. Xander watches Siegbert look at all of them with stars in his eyes.

“Siegbert’s having fun,” Inigo says, beside him. He’s staying back, for now, just keeping an eye on the kids and making sure no one trips and damages anything, letting the museum guide take over.

“So is Soleil,” Xander says, tilting his head towards the group of children. “Though I think she enjoyed the children's museum more."

Inigo laughs. “She likes to run around. Hey,” he says, putting a hand on his arm. “I’m glad you could make it. I know how busy you are with your job.”

At that, Xander remembers his meeting with Garon.

“Xander? Hey. Everything all right?” Inigo says, grounding him back to reality. "You look like something's bothering you...”

Xander shakes his head. "I'm fine,” he says.

“Okay… you sure you’re all right?” Inigo asks, frowning.

“Yes. I’m fine,” Xander repeats. He tries to relax his face. “Don't worry about me.”

Inigo gives him one more worried look. “If you say so… hey, you know what?” he says, and his mouth tips up into another smile. “I came in here one time with some friends, when I was a teenager. And we took pictures while making funny faces with the paintings… then we got _so_ scolded by this one guard. I was so scared that we would get into big trouble or something.”

Xander gives him a tiny smile, even though he thinks Inigo's just trying to make him feel better. “And then what happened?”

“Well, we weren’t kicked out, so we continued looking around,” Inigo says. “But we kept our heads down. And whispered when we talked. And all cameras and phones stayed in our pockets. Until now I can’t really look security around here in the eye… even if the guard who got mad at us back then doesn’t even work here anymore.”

Xander huffs a laugh. “Then I’ll be sure to warn you whenever a security guard comes near, so that you can hide yourself.”

Inigo chuckles. "I guess I could hide behind you. You're the tallest person I know, and I’m short enough.”

The group continues throughout the museum. Among the parents trailing behind the kids, Xander and Inigo stick together, exchanging comments and conversation. Inigo, he learns, knows a lot more about the paintings than he does. It’s extra information not given by the museum guide, and he whispers in Xander’s ear about this artist’s striking use of color, or about another painting’s symbolism, or simply comments about how the way that old man’s face is painted makes him look constipated. They feel like little secrets, shared between the two of them only.

“Hey, what’re you guys smiling about?” he hears Oboro ask, with Mozu right behind her. The two of them are always together, he notes.

“Ah, nothing,” Inigo says. “I was just telling Xander here about how that man in that painting looks like Nicholas Cage.”

Oboro laughed. “You know, this whole thing reminds me of this one field trip I had when I was still in school. We also went to a museum,” she says. “Takumi and Hinata paired up, the traitors, leaving me alone, so I went with my good old buddy Mozu!” She puts an arm around Mozu’s shoulders.

“O-oh! I remember that…” Mozu says, blushing. “That was when you brought lunch for me that you made yourself, even if I already brought my own food… we had so much rice that day.”

“There’s no such thing as too much rice!” Oboro says. “Remember how I helped you pick out your clothes? You looked so pretty in that dress! Really. All of the paintings and sculptures couldn’t compare to you!”

Mozu turned an even brighter shade of red. “Ah, shucks! You flatter me too much, I’m sure it wasn’t that big of a deal…”

Xander watches their interaction with a curious tilt to his head. Are they flirting? He gives Inigo a questioning glance. Inigo gives him a knowing smile in return.

Xander frowns. “What does that mean?” he whispers. Not like Oboro and Mozu would notice. They’re too engrossed in each other to care.

“It means, well.” Inigo nudges his head in their direction. “You know.”

“I… don’t know.”

Inigo sighs. “Honestly, Xander—“

“Oh!” Mozu says. "We're so sorry. We just keep on talking and talking in front of the both of you… how rude of us!”

“Oh, no, no, it’s fine!” Inigo says, waving his hands. “We don’t mind. Don’t we, Xander?”

Xander’s frown deepens. And then, it clicks. Oboro’s arm around Mozu, the blushing, the flirting. “Of course not,” Xander says, in the most polite way he can. “I think the both of you are a lovely couple, by the way.”

Oboro and Mozu froze. Oboro took her arm off Mozu, putting space between them. Beside him, Inigo slapped his forehead. Xander’s frown deepens even more.

“C-C-Couple?” Mozu squeaks.

“No, no, you’ve got it wrong!” Oboro says, laughing shakily. “We’re not… a… a—“ she gulps— “couple…”

“Ah,” Xander whispers to Inigo. “Did I say something wrong?”

“Excuse us for a moment,” Inigo says, smiling and taking hold of Xander’s arm. He steers them away, behind a column.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Xander starts to say, but Inigo holds up his hands.

“It’s fine, it’s fine. I’m sorry for being unclear, I gave you the wrong impression,” Inigo says. “Okay, here’s the deal. I have been trying to help get those two together for ages. Well—at least since the school year started.”

“They’re not together?” Xander says. “They acted like they were…”

“Ugh, I know! That’s exactly it!” Inigo says. “You see, those two actually dated in high school for a bit. And then Mozu got accepted into a university on the other side of the country so they broke up… then they met each other again because of the kindergarten.”

Xander raises a brow. “And you know all of this because…?”

Inigo shrugs. “The PTA is a very tightly-knit group,” he says. “All of them are my best friends. Most of them. Sort of. Anyway… those two keep on flirting and flirting, but neither of them are actually doing anything! It’s the most frustrating thing to watch ever. So I’ve been trying to, you know, gently push them towards each other. Gently.”

“I understand,” Xander says. “I’ll go apologize to them.”

They hear the museum guide speak, as well as the shuffling footsteps of the kindergarteners. “All right, children, follow me! We’re heading onto the next room now!”

“Come on,” Inigo says, holding Xander by the arm again, leading the both of them to follow the class. Xander wishes, in his head, like a smitten schoolboy, that they were holding hands instead.

They wander through a few more halls, and before Xander knows it the tour is over. Siegbert's little face falls in disappointment, and Xander's heart sinks at the sight. The class stops by the museum cafe for a break before leaving. Xander and Siegbert sit together quietly.

“Did you have fun?” Xander asks, while Siegbert stuffs his face with Oreos.

Siegbert nods. “I did, Papa,” he says, and hands out the pack of Oreos. “Here, you can have the last one.”

Xander smiles. “No, but thank you. It’s yours,” he says. “You know, we can always come back here, if you want. Just the two of us.”

The way Siegbert’s face brightens up gives him the best, warmest feeling. “Really?” Siegbert asks.

“Of course. You like it here, right?” Xander says.

“Uh-huh,” Siegbert says. “Thank you, Papa. You’re the best.”

Xander smoothes down Siegbert’s hair. “No, that’s you. You’re the best,” he says. “The best little son in the world.”

Siegbert giggles, little bits of cookie stuck between his teeth showing. There was still the gap from where his front tooth fell. It’s adorable.

“Hey,” Xander says, “do you want a souvenir from the gift shop? I could ask Mr. Inigo if there’s still time for us to drop by.”

“Um,” Siegbert says, folding his hands together shyly. “I don’t know…”

Xander sighs affectionately. “You want something, don’t you?” he says. “Don’t be ashamed. It’s all right.”

“Oh! Well… if you say so, Papa…” Siegbert says, giving him a bashful smile.

“All right. Let’s clean up first before we go, okay?” Xander says, and Siegbert nods before going off to dispose his Oreo wrappers in the bin.

Inigo and Soleil are sitting at one of the bigger tables along with several other students, including Owain. It’s like a party going on there, with everyone laughing and chatting. Owain’s playing along with the kids, while Inigo seems to be busy doing some sort of paperwork.

“Inigo?” Xander says. “I don’t mean to disturb you, but I only wanted to ask what time we’ll be leaving.”

“Oh, it’s fine, you’re not bothering me,” Inigo says, putting down his pen to face him, smiling. He checks his watch. “We have around thirty minutes left until we have to go… why, are you that eager to go home?”

“No, no,” Xander says. “I just wanted to visit the gift shop with Siegbert, that’s all. I was only wondering if there was still time to do so.”

“Ah, is that so?” Inigo says. “Then, sure, go ahead—“

“Gift shop?!” Soleil cuts in, eyes sparkling. “Oooh, I wanna go! Daddy, can we go?”

Inigo glances at Xander—fond, exasperated—before turning back to Soleil and ruffling her hair. “Sure, why not?” he says. “Mr. Owain can handle things on his own for a few minutes. Right, Owain?”

“I’m sorry, what?” Owain says, swivelling in his seat. “Owain can’t hear you because he isn’t here right now.” His voice drops to a low, dramatic tone. “Right now there is only… _the Dark._ ” The little children around him burst into giggles.

“Fine,” Inigo says. “Could you watch over the class while I bring Soleil to the gift shop, oh mighty Odin Dark?”

“Pah!” Owain scoffed. “These are no mere children… they are harbingers of the cursed light. But do not despair. I, Odin Dark of awesome renown, will no doubt hold them off." He said the word awesome as if it were truly full of jaw-dropping awe, instead of how people would casually drop the word around like _nice_ or _cool_ or _radical._

Strange man, Xander thinks.

“We won’t take long,” Inigo says, rolling his eyes and getting up from the table.

Siegbert and Soleil walk in front of them, with Soleil swinging their enjoined hands together back and forth with every step. Siegbert would be too shy to hold hands, but Xander could see on his face that he couldn’t say no to Soleil (who was by now calling him her best friend. Xander couldn’t help smiling. Siegbert’s first best friend.)

“Someone’s in a good mood,” Inigo says.

“It’s just that it’s nice that Siegbert and Soleil get along so well,” Xander says.

“Yeah,” Inigo says, watching the kids with a thoughtful smile on his face. “They do, don’t they?”

“You know Siegbert never really had any friends except for his cousin,” Xander whispers. “I’m glad that he has someone like Soleil now, especially since she’s such a nice girl.”

“I’m glad, too,” Inigo says. “Maybe Siegbert can rub off some of his responsibility on her.”

He ends up buying Siegbert a few postcards of some of the paintings he’d liked the most. (Siegbert asks if he can put them up in his room. “Of course,” Xander tells him, “I’ll even help you.”) Soleil bounces around the shop before settling in front of a baby blue baseball hat with the museum’s name on the front, sparkles in her eyes.

“This would go well with your hair,” Inigo says, holding the cap up. He turns it around in his hands, and winces at the price tag. Gift shops are always expensive.

Soleil’s face falls, but she immediately covers it up with a smile. “It’s okay, Daddy. We don’t have to get it.”

Xander is reminded of how Elise used to hop up to him, dolls in hand, and beg him to play with her, just for a while, _pretty please_. Xander, stuck at his desk with homework to do and tests to study for, would be be torn between his sister and his responsibilities. It broke his heart every time he had to say no to her.

“I’m really sorry, honey,” Inigo says, ruffling her hair. “Next time, okay?”

After they exit the gift shop, Xander catches Siegbert’s wistful gaze as they pass by one of the entrances leading into the museum's painting-filled halls.

“Do you want to go inside again for a while?” Xander says.

“Oh, um…” Siegbert says, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. “But we’re leaving soon, right?”

“We’ve still got…” Inigo says, turning on his phone to check the time. “Ten minutes. It’s fine, Siegbert.” He gives him a smile.

Soleil tugs on her father’s hand. “Can we go, too, Daddy?”

Inigo’s mouth twists in thought, probably thinking about how he should get back to Owain and the rest of the class, Xander assumes, but then he just shrugs his shoulders and smiles. “I don’t see why not,” Inigo says. Perhaps he felt guilty about not being able to buy the cap for Soleil earlier.

“Come on, Sieg, let’s go!” Soleil says, grabbing Siegbert’s hand again.

“A-ah, Soleil, wait up,” Siegbert says as Soleil starts running, pulling Siegbert along behind her.

“Hey! You could break something if you run around like that!” Inigo says, cupping his hands around his mouth.

“I’m fairly sure that shouting is frowned upon in museums as well,” Xander says with a light-hearted tone.

“O-oh,” Inigo says. He clears his throat and straightens up, looking sheepish. “Yes. Right.”

Once they’re inside again, however, it’s surprisingly Siegbert who takes the lead, showing Soleil all the paintings and his own interpretations (“And I think this is one is about a sad rhino… I don’t know why she’s sad, but she’s very pretty, right?”). Soleil whispers “ _Ooooh_ ” at everything.

Siegbert turns into someone more confident, more sure of himself, when he’s talking about things he's interested in and when he’s with people he's comfortable with. No, Xander corrects himself, not “someone”. Not someone else. He's still Siegbert. Bright, smart, wonderful Siegbert.

The best little son in the world indeed, he thinks to himself.

“Oh, this one,” Inigo says, leading Xander—by the wrist, Inigo’s hand so close to his own—to a not-so-large blue painting that, interestingly, had a wall all to itself. “I didn’t get the chance to take a better look earlier… do you know what it is?”

Xander views the painting that depicts a regal man standing bravely in the midst of a storm, his cape flowing in the wind and sword remaining strong and firm in his hands. He looks like a prince, someone out of a storybook—but Xander is old, and it’s been too long since he last read fairy tales. “It looks somewhat familiar,” Xander says.

“It’s the Hero-King Marth,” Inigo says. “Don’t you know the story?”

"Ah, yes, of course,” Xander says. He remembers now; the Hero-King was among the many mythical figures in the stories Xander used to read to Corrin and Elise and even Leo, before he learned how to read on his own and breezed through all the other picture books in their house faster than Xander ever could.

“There’s a musical based on Marth,” Inigo says. “It’s new and I haven’t seen it yet because it’s expensive and really hard to get tickets for because it’s really popular, but I have the cast recording and Jesus it is so good. I have a friend whose family was given tickets because their bloodline traces back to him and _ugh_ I am so jealous. I swear.”

“Really?” Xander says. “I thought he was just a story.”

Inigo shrugs. “I guess? Maybe? I don’t know for sure. Lucina just told me that he was probably real, except all the magic and fantasy stuff was made up,” he says. “It would be an absolute dream come true to see the show myself…” He sighs, a dreamy, far-off look on his face.

Xander faintly thinks back to Corrin and Silas’s engagement party… didn’t Azura mention something about being in a musical that sounded like what Inigo described? He’d have to ask her to make sure. Maybe he could even get tickets, since Inigo seems to want to watch it so much…

“Hey… Xander?” Inigo says. “I just wanted to say that, ah… you can tell me anything, all right? We’re friends, aren’t we? If there's anything bothering you, I’m right here. I know you probably don't want to talk about it with how you reacted earlier, but. I just wanted you to know.”

“Inigo,” Xander says, genuinely touched. “Thank you. If there’s anything you need as well, you can come to me. It works both ways.”

Inigo smiles. “Thank you, Xander. I mean it.”

Xander smiles back. He turns back to the painting. “I suppose I can be honest with you,” he says, sighing. “My father and I… we don’t have the best relationship.” His fists clench tightly. “You see, I was supposed to attend another event today—work-related—but I chose to come here and he… was not pleased.” His nails are digging into his palms so hard that it hurts. There will be crescent-shaped indents later. “It’s. It’s quite difficult.”

God, what was he saying? _It’s quite difficult_. What was he doing, whining and complaining here to Inigo? He shouldn’t be talking about this at all, it’s so… so trivial, why does he have to take every little thing so seriously? No doubt that Inigo is silently judging him right now, no doubt that Inigo must think that of him as a very petty man. He should just be able to let things go and move on with his life and be strong, for goodness’ sake, because there are people who need him to be strong—

Inigo’s hand is on his, carefully, gently easing his fist open, unfurling his fingers, running thumbs over his palm and bidding his muscles to relax. “Hey,” Inigo says softly. “Let’s relax for a bit, yeah? It’s all right. Everything’s all right, Xander.”

Inigo’s smiling at him, and Xander lets out a breath, the tension in his shoulders loosening, the coiled up frustration in his body dissolving.

In that moment he thinks, I want to hold him. He wants so desperately to touch him, to wrap his arms around Inigo’s frame and embrace him, make him feel safe like he does to him—and restrains himself. He knows what Inigo wants, and doesn’t want. He respects him and his boundaries and is willing to take only what Inigo is ready to give.

“Come on. Look at the paintings, all around you,” Inigo says, “and I mean really look at them. They’re all so beautiful, aren’t they? There’s a reason why they’re in a museum.”

Inigo looks at the paintings. Xander looks at Inigo.

                                                                 

 

 

Inigo receives a text from Owain saying that they have to leave in a few minutes. When they’re on their way back to the class, Xander stops in front of the gift shop.

“Siegbert, go ahead with Soleil and Mr. Inigo first,” Xander says, pushing him forward lightly. “There’s something I want to check. I’ll follow in a while, I’ll be very quick.”

“Oh,” Siegbert says, blinking. “Okay, Papa.” He stumbles off to catch up with Soleil and Inigo.

Xander didn’t say no to Elise all the time, back then. Once in a while, he wouldn’t have that much homework. Once in a while, he wouldn’t be so anxious about forgetting a formula and not getting an A+ on his test. And they would play teatime in her room with her teddy bears and dolls, and during those times Elise was a shining, laughing ball of life.

He purchases the baseball cap, all the while wondering how he would give it to Soleil. Xander never likes giving gifts like this directly; it always makes the recipient feel indebted to him, and he doesn’t want that. Neither does he want Inigo to think that he’s doing this for Soleil to gain his approval. He just wants to brighten up her day, like she does for Siegbert.

He’ll figure it out, he tells himself. He doesn’t have to give it to her today, anyway. He has time.

On the bus, Siegbert falls asleep, worn out from the field trip. He dozes off in Xander’s nap, snoring, while Xander rubs circles into the side of his arm. Most of the other children are napping now as well, thank god, because Xander is tired, too.

The sky is orange and sleepy by the time they arrive at the school. Siegbert is still asleep and Xander carries him out of the bus, holding him close in his arms.

“Xander?” he hears Inigo say, and he turns around to face him. “Oh, sorry,” he says, lowering his voice to a whisper once he notices that Siegbert is sleeping soundly against Xander’s chest. “I just wanted to thank you again for coming.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Xander says. “It was my pleasure. Spending the day with Siegbert like this was… nice.”

Inigo smiles. “Okay,” he says. “Okay, I’m glad.”

Xander smiles back, nodding. “I’ll see you on Monday—“

“Mr. Inigo!”

Mrs. Bernard’s shrill voice cuts through the air and Siegbert jolts awake, tiny hands clinging to Xander. “Wuh—“ he says, bleary-eyed, “Papa—“

“Shh, shh,” Xander says, smoothing down Siegbert’s back. He frowns at Mrs. Bernard before going back to calming Siegbert. “It’s all right, son, I’m here…”

“Oh, goodness,” Mrs. Bernard coos. “I’m so sorry, dear, I didn’t mean to wake you!” She did sound somewhat genuinely sorry, at least. Xander supposes that any parent would feel guilty about waking another’s child. “Mr. Inigo, Preston and I are leaving soon. I just wanted to ask if there was any homework to be done? Just making sure. My little boy is very forgetful.”

“None at all,” Inigo says. “Enjoy your weekend.”

Mrs. Bernard looks at Inigo, then Xander, then Inigo again. “I always see the both of you together,” she says. “You two are awfully… _close_ , aren’t you?”

Xander and Inigo share a glance. Inigo blinks, surprised.

“Well, I…” Inigo says. Xander can see him gulp. His brow furrows in worry.

“We’re friends,” Xander says for him. Firmly, to end the conversation.

“Oh,” Mrs. Bernard says with raised brows and pursed lips. “O-kay. Well, goodbye.” She walks off, tutting a “come now, Preston” at her son who was still playing around with some friends.

Siegbert leans into his neck, mumbling. “Papa…” he says. “M’sleepy.”

Xander pats his back. “Yes, Siegbert, I know,” he says. “We’re going home now.”

“See you Monday?” Inigo says.

“See you Monday,” Xander says.

In the car, Xander carefully places Siegbert in his booster seat, buckling him up. He tries to close the door as quietly as he can.

“Oh, hey there!”

It’s Mozu. She’s coming up holding a little girl in one hand and waving at Xander with the other.

“Ah, hello,” Xander says. Seeing her immediately reminds him of how he accidentally embarrassed her and Oboro earlier, and he’s filled with awkward shame.

“You and Siegbert headin’ on home?” she says.

“We are,” Xander says. “He’s in the car. Sleeping.”

“Aw, that would’ve been a cute sight,” Mozu says. “Well, we’re going home, too. This is my niece, by the way! Say hi now.”

The little girl sheepishly smiled at him, then returned her gaze to the ground. Maybe it was his height.

“She’s a bit shy,” Mozu says. “You know that’s my car right beside you, actually! Not as fancy as yours, but she works…”

There _is_ a stark contrast with the rusty, rundown car next to his own gleaming one. “I think it’s a very charming car,” he says, even if it sounds ridiculous. He never liked making others insecure because of his wealth. “It looks, ah, cozy.”

“Oh, you don’t have to be nice like that. She’s just a regular old second-hand, nothing special,” Mozu says.

“Mozu,” Xander says, stepping forward. “I want to apologize for earlier. I didn’t intend to put you in an uncomfortable situation, but I did anyway and for that I am sorry.”

“Oh, that?” Mozu says, waving a hand. “Don’t worry about it! After that we, ah…” Mozu blushes. “We actually talked about it… y’know? Talked about… _us_ and stuff…” Mozu blushes even harder, her face like a tomato. “In fact we’re going out on Sunday for dinner… though I honestly would like it better if it were her own cooking, but a restaurant’s all right, too, I guess…”

Xander blinks. “Oh,” he says. He supposes… that he actually helped them instead? “That’s… nice. I’m happy for the both of you.”

“Auntie’s being a sap again,” says Mozu’s niece.

“Lord, am I?” Mozu says, slapping her red cheek. “I am so sorry. I’ve been rambling! Silly Mozu, always talking people’s heads off…”

“Oh, no, it’s fine,” Xander says. “I’m really glad for you and Oboro, truly. It was a pleasure meeting you today, Mozu.”

“Same to you!” Mozu says. “Well, see you around, then!”

When he gets into the driver’s seat, he pulls up his phone and texts Inigo.

    **Xander**  
       So I think I accidentally got Mozu and Oboro together.

      **Inigo**  
       WHAT  
       Wait WHAT

    **Xander**  
       I was just talking to Mozu in the parking lot to apologize for earlier. She told me that she and Oboro actually worked things out between them after so it was okay. Apparently they’re going on a date this weekend, according to her.

      **Inigo**  
       Oh  
       My god  
       GOD’S WORK XANDER YOU’VE DONE GOD’S WORK

The corner of Xander’s lip quirks up in a smile.

      **Xander**  
       I didn’t do it on purpose. It just happened.

        **Inigo**  
       EXACTLY. IT HAPPENED  
       Jesus I try so hard for MONTHS and then you come up and actually do it  
       You’re so amazing wow

    **Xander**  
       I told you, it was an accident.

      **Inigo**  
       Shhh  
       Doesn’t matter  
       Still amazing

 

* * *

 

It's his lunch break, and Xander’s sitting at a table by himself, trying to contact Azura. He tried to get ahold of her over the weekend to no avail (and he stopped after two tries because he didn’t want to seem like a creep).

Xander waits patiently as he listens to Azura’s phone ring on the other side. Her voicemail picks up again. He sighs.

“… _Please, feel free to leave a message_ ,” Azura’s voicemail says.

“Azura,” he says, “hello. Good afternoon. It’s me again—Xander. I apologize for bothering you once more, but there was something I wanted to ask you about…”

He trails off, because a familiar cotton candy-colored head comes into sight, and Peri plops into the seat opposite him.

“Hey-o, Mr. Xander!” Peri says, pulling up her lunch. “Mind if I sit here with you?”

Xander brings up a finger to his lips, and points at the phone in his hand.

“Ohhh,” Peri whispers. “Oops! Sorry. I'll be quiet now.”

Xander nods in thanks. “Excuse me. I wanted to ask you about something,” he continues into his phone. “Please, call me when you have time. Thank you.”

"Was that an _important_ call?” Peri asks, leaning her cheek into her palm. She’s kicking her feet back and forth under the table, and Xander knows because she accidentally hits his ankle once. “You know, I can do those for you. That’s my job!”

“It’s not for work,” Xander says.

“Ooooh, a personal call!” Peri says. “You never make those!”

Xander frowns. “I have friends,” he says.

“Hmm,” Peri says, tipping her head to the side. “Well, if you say so!”

Most people would frown upon the kind of relationship they had, or say it was somewhat unprofessional. But Xander didn’t mind, really. Peri may be eccentric, but she does do her work efficiently. And she’s really the only person around here that isn’t terrified of him… it’s nice to have a friend in the office.

Xander's phone rings (the bland, default iPhone ringtone)—it’s Azura.

“A girl?!” Peri squeals.

Xander heaves a sigh. “Not what you think,” he says, and answers the call. “Hello.”

“Xander,” Azura says, sounding a bit hoarse and exhausted. “I realize you've been trying to call me… I’m very sorry. I’m afraid I’ve been quite busy with rehearsals and other things for my show.”

“It's all right,” Xander says. “I’m often busy as well, myself; I completely understand. Is it your lunch break right now? You must be tired. You should go eat and rest, I don’t want to take away your time. I can wait, don’t worry.”

Across the table, Peri giggles. Xander puts his hand over the phone and shushes her. She puts her hands over her mouth (her nails all painted different colors), but continues snickering.

“No, it’s fine,” Azura says. “You said there was something you needed to ask me? What is it?”

“I admit it’s not very important,” Xander says. “But the musical you're in right now, does it happen to be about the mythical figure Marth?”

“Ah, yes,” Azura says, brightening up. “It’s a great musical, lots of indie rock mixed with folk music and classical. I'm aware that that sounds, well, strange, but Corrin saw it the other day and she loved it. Next year, we’re moving to Broadway. Why are you asking?”

“A friend mentioned it,” Xander says. “I gather he’d be very excited if I tell him that I know one of the cast members personally… anyway, how can I get tickets?”

“Oh,” Azura says. “I’m glad you're interested, but tickets are rather, ah. Difficult to get a hold of.”

Xander hums. “How so?”

“It’s somewhat impossible to buy tickets directly, since they’re always sold out,” Azura says. “You could buy tickets from resellers, I suppose, but they’re very expensive.”

“I don’t think that would be a problem,” Xander says.

“I know that you and your family are wealthy,” Azura says. “But those tickets are _expensive_. The cheapest would be, say… two hundred-fifty dollars? And those are for bad seats. Orchestra is worse.”

He supposes Azura has a point. Garon used to take them to the theater often (a very long time ago), and he never remembered ticket prices being that high… it must be some show. “What do you suggest that I do, then?” he asks.

“I could probably reserve some tickets for you,” Azura says. “That’s what I did for Corrin and Silas. They’re not free, though, but you get guaranteed tickets.”

“That would be great, actually,” Xander says. “Thank you, Azura. I owe you.”

“Oh, please, don’t bother,” Azura says. “It’s my pleasure. I’d love for you to see the show. I’ll tell you when if I can confirm the tickets, all right? I have to go now.”

“Yes, yes, alright. Goodbye,” Xander says, and he ends the call.

Peri is staring at him with a excited look on her face, her chin in her hands. “Sooo…?”

“So, what,” Xander says flatly.

“So what was that?!” Peri says. “Tell meee. I heard you mention musicals and tickets!”

“I’m just thinking of buying tickets to a show for a friend,” Xander says.

“Oh, a _friend_ ,” Peri says.

“Yes, Peri,” Xander says, his brows knitted together. “A friend.”

Peri giggles. “Is this a _friendly_ friend?”

Xander exhales through his nose. “I,” he says, “do not know I should answer that.”

“So it is a romantic thing, after all!” Peri says. “Goooosh, Mr. Xander, I knew you had it in ya!”

Xander frowns. “Peri, no,” he says. “It’s not like that.”

“Reeaaallyy?” Peri says, grinning.

“Yes, really,” says Xander. “I’d like to ask you to refrain from pushing the topic further, please.”

Peri pouts. “Fine, okay,” she says.

They leave the table after some time to get back to work. Peri chatters all the way to the elevator, and keeps on talking while they wait, telling Xander about her weekend and about this new TV show she’s been watching and how she beat up a guy three times her size at the boxing gym the other day. Xander nods at her stories, slipping in a smile every once in a while.

Peri doesn’t stop talking until they’re inside the elevator and they hear a cold, familiar voice from outside.

“Hold the door.”

They both freeze as Garon enters the elevator, Peri’s smile dropping—not a common sight. Xander notices her try to subtly shift closer to him and away from Garon. Everyone who worked in this building is afraid of Nohr Corporation’s CEO, without exception. (Even Iago, for all his oozing conceitedness.)

“Good afternoon, Mr. De Nohr,” Peri mumbles, staring straight ahead.

Garon doesn’t acknowledge her. “Xander,” he says, eyes pointing at his son. Xander’s frame goes stiff in agitation at his tone, more frigid and distant than usual. “How convenient. I was just going to ask you to meet me in my office.”

“Ah,” Xander says, willing his voice to stay completely neutral. “I see.”

“You will come with me right now, of course. We’ll save time that way,” Garon says.

Peri sends him a look, the lower lip wobbling in worry. She was always concerned for him, and she knew that Xander skipped the business conference last week to go to Siegbert’s field trip. He wishes he could say something to ease her worries. But Garon is right there, and he keeps silent.

Xander gives her a single nod. _I’ll be fine_. He looks past her, at Garon. “Yes, Father.”

 

* * *

 

Inigo’s watching the kids as the play outside today, while Owain has to take care of paperwork inside. (Which was, as he put it, “the most dreadful and tedious fate, O Divine Watchmaker, what ever crimes have I ever committed for such demise to befell me, Inigo please switch with me again come on please—“)

He’s not as creative or theatrical as Owain is, and the kids probably think he’s boring or something because of that, but Inigo’s got to admit that it’s fun, playing with the children freely. Or at the very least amusing. Kids say a lot of weird things and they’re the cutest things ever (most of the time).

“Daddy, Daddy, Daaaaddy!” he hears Soleil say, running towards in him. He quirks up in interest when he sees that she's holding the ukulele he keeps in the classroom in her hands. She holds it up to him. “Play something! Pretty please?”

“Sure thing, sweetie,” he says, taking the ukulele and sitting down on the lush grass, petting the space beside him for Soleil to sit. “What song do you want me to play?”

“Anything is good!” Soleil says, getting down and hugging her knees.

“Then I guess we’ll play it by ear,” he says, laughing at his own joke. He's never been an expert at playing instruments or anything, since he’s always focused more on dancing, but he picked it up in high school for fun and it's become a little pastime ever since (plus it was always nice to sing with some accompaniment).

He strums the strings once, and the note flows through the air. At the sound some of the kids stop and turn, dropping their game of catch and leaving the swing sets to join in music time—which was pretty much all the time in Inigo’s class, really, because if there was one thing he made sure his students learned it was a love for music.

Soon enough there was a circle of children around him, eager for a sing-a-long. He spots tiny Siegbert shyly making his way towards the group before sitting down at edge of the circle, by himself.

“Oh, Mr. Inigo!” says Caeldori, clapping her small chubby hands together. “What song are we gonna sing?”

“The do-re-mi song!” says Nina. “From the, the movie. Do, a deer, a female deer…”

“Lullaby,” says Mitama, halfway through a yawn. “M’sleepy.”

“What about…” Inigo says, a tune coming into his mind. “ _Look for the_ —“ he sings, in his smooth voice not unlike his mother’s, and starts strumming the ukulele—“ _bare necessities, the simple bare necessities_ …”

He wasn’t kidding at all when he said that little kids were amusing to watch—they’re so silly and adorable. Siegbert’s in the back bobbing his head from side to side with the song; Selkie giggles and snorts throughout the whole song for some reason; Nina tries clapping along, very much off-beat (though she’s having fun so it doesn’t really matter).

Soleil sings along with him, and she knows all the words like she does with many other Disney songs. She sings like she’s yelling, even compared to five year-old standards, but when she sings it’s always from the heart and there’s always a huge grin on her face, so it was okay.

Best daughter in the world.

“Play it again, play it again!” Soleil says, when Inigo’s done singing about living in the jungle.

He reaches over to ruffle her hair. “What, again? Aren’t there any other songs you like?”

Percy pipes up about the Bob the Builder theme song. Caeldori wants to sing the nursery rhyme about numbers again. Selkie says something about the cookie song the Cookie Monster sings.

Inigo almost doesn’t notice Owain opening the classroom door and coming in towards them, a serious look on his face for whatever reason. Maybe he can’t find his “Berry Good!” strawberry stamps again.

“Hold on for a second, guys,” he says, handing over the ukulele to Soleil and getting up to talk to Owain. “Hey, something wrong?”

“I don’t really know… maybe?” Owain says. “The principal wants to see you in his office. His secretary just came down to look for you. I said that I’d tell you myself.”

“What? The principal?” Inigo says. Worry starts to sprout. “Do you know why? I mean… I haven’t done anything wrong. Have I?”

“No idea, man,” Owain says, shrugging. “Sorry. But it seemed urgent. You should get up there.”

“Well, sh… iitake mushrooms,” Inigo says, remembering that he’s around very small children. He glances behind him to see if anyone heard.

“I’m sure it’s probably nothing,” Owain says, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re the best teacher ever, anyway.”

“I don’t know about best teacher in general, but if we’re talking about the most dashing teacher I think It’s within reason to assume that I am the most worthy candidate.” He winks, because honestly it’s pretty much second nature to him. And it does nothing to ease the cold anxiety seeping through his stomach.

“And you say I’m insufferable,” Owain says. “I’ll watch over the kids, you go see the principal.”

“How am I supposed to know this isn’t just some trick for you to get out of grading papers?” Inigo asks.

“Ha!” Owain says. “Maybe it is.”

Inigo rolls his eyes. He briefly informs the kids that Mr. Owain will be with them while he has to go take care of something before he reenters the school building, on his way to principal’s office.

He’s been called to the principal’s office before—as a student. Owain always got him and Severa into trouble. But as a teacher he hasn’t really done anything that would merit him a meeting with the principal in the middle of the day like this… Inigo tries to look back on everything he’s done in the past few days. Last week he might have stolen some fries from someone else’s plate in the teacher’s lounge while no one was looking, but aside from that, not much else.

He takes in a deep breath. You’ll be fine, he tells himself. Owain said that it’s probably nothing. Stop overthinking it.

The secretary greets him, and instructs him to knock on the principal’s door and just enter. He nods, and gives her a smile meant to charm. He knocks, three strong and sure raps that’ll hide his nervousness for sure, or so he hopes.

When he opens the door, Mrs. Bernard is inside with the principal, sitting in one of the chairs in front of his desk, her expensive purse on her lap.

The principal clears his throat. “Ah, Mr. Inigo,” he says. “I’m so sorry to call you on such short notice, but there are a few concerns I would like to discuss with you…”

Inigo thinks he knows why Mrs. Bernard is here. He should’ve known sooner. And if his suspicions prove true… irritated disbelief sparks in him. Mrs. Bernard never really did get over the gay penguins.

“Yes, of course,” he says, nodding, and closes the door behind him.

 

* * *

 

The elevator stops at Xander’s floor, and Peri glances at him, frowning, one more time as she steps out. The doors close, and he’s left inside with Garon.

Neither of them speak. Xander keeps his eyes on the display showing the floors they're passing, the numbers getting higher the same rate as his insides fill with biting dread. Instead of mere floor numbers it feels like a timer, with a bomb waiting for him at the end.

Xander was thirteen years old once, trudging towards his father’s study, holding with his trembling fingers his report card that had a single C amongst the expected A+’s. He feels thirteen years old again, insignificant and afraid.

“Sit down,” Garon says once they’ve reached his office, shutting the door behind him.

Xander does.

“You know why I have called you here,” Garon says.

Xander does not look down. He looks Garon in the eye, and does not break his gaze away. “I do.”

Garon sighs deeply. He doesn’t back away, either; his eyes bore into Xander’s. “What has gotten into you?” he says. “You’re not like this.”

Xander listens to this, balling his fists together.

He doesn’t have to feel like he did when he was thirteen. He doesn’t have to feel like a failure for not meeting his father’s standards.

“The Xander I know is responsible,” Garon continues. “Dedicated. Fit to lead the company.”

There are other things in his life aside from Garon—Siegbert, Camilla and Leo and Corrin and Elise. Even Inigo, really.

“I have given it some thought during the trip. You never directly disobey me like this—the last and only time you've done it before was when you tried helping Corrin contact those damn Hoshidos years ago. I’ll let you off easy this time, but if you think about pulling something like this again, I will not be as benevolent as I am today,” Garon says. “I do _not_ want a repeat of this, Xander. Do you understand?”

His life doesn’t have to be just pleasing his father. His life doesn’t have to be just Nohr Corporation.

“Do you understand?” Garon repeats. “ _Xander_. I am speaking to you. Is this how you behave when I show you forgiveness?”

Beneath his feelings of fear, buried underneath, was red-hot anger, born of tiredness and discontent. And now that fear was melting away. And now that anger was burning up, faster and stronger.

“Forgiveness,” Xander hisses out. “For what? I see no wrong in any of my actions. Yet here you are, scolding me as if I were a child.”

“How dare you,” Garon says through gritted teeth, pointing a finger at him. “You disobeyed me—“

“One conference, Father. I missed one conference,” says Xander. "It's not the end of the world.”

“ _You_ need to learn how to sacrifice, boy,” Garon says.

“I have sacrificed,” Xander says. “Sacrificed time and time again. And what has it given me? What has it taken from me?”

“Stop your whining!” Garon roars, slamming his fist on his desk. “You think this corporation became what it is today because I spent my time reading storybooks to you and your siblings? It grew because I worked!”

“And look what that did,” Xander snarls.

“I gave you a roof under your heads,” Garon says. “The finest education in the country. Everything you ever asked for—Camilla’s dresses and Leo’s books and Elise’s dolls. You never knew hunger. You never knew thirst. How _spoiled_ all of you were, and you still complain.”

“Is that all a person ever needs?” Xander says. “What—what about love and warmth? Did you give us that? Do not forget how you closed Corrin off from everyone for a year. How you made Camilla quit her sports team because you thought it wasn’t ladylike enough for her. How you tore up the novel Leo loved the most when you were angry at him once. How you never attended any of Elise’s recitals, no matter how much she practiced just in case you would go.”

He knows all of the times Garon has harmed his siblings. They’re etched into his heart, grudges never forgotten.

This isn’t just about work anymore. The spotlight is on Garon, and everything Xander has kept sealed in his heart is crashing down in waves of flame.

Garon furrows his brows at him. “What are you trying to do, Xander?”

“We grew up scared of you,” Xander says. “I don’t want Siegbert to grow up the same way. I want Siegbert to have someone who will always be there for him. Whatever it takes, I’m going to be Siegbert’s father—truly and completely. Never only when it is convenient for me to be.

“You have hurt us,” he continues. “Yes, even me. Whenever I try to trace the root of my problems, it always, always goes back to you. Until now I am still learning how to undo the damage you have caused me. I am not the perfect, unmoving son you want me to be, Father. I never will be. And I now know that I need to stop trying to be that. You must know that you aren't the good father that you think yourself to be. I’ll be damned if I end up anything like you.”

Garon looks at him, quiet and somber. “I never said I thought I was a good father.”

Xander exhales, running his hands over his eyes. “God, don’t—” he says, “don’t do that. You are not the victim here.”

Garon doesn’t answer.

“What I’m trying to say here is—“ Xander tells him, “I’m—I’m exhausted, Father. Aren’t you?”

Garon keeps on staring at him. Staring and staring and staring; Xander looks at him back but can’t for the life of him figure out what’s going on behind his grave eyes. Until, at last, Garon speaks in a calm, levelled tone: “Xander. Get out of my office.”

Xander lets out a breath, shaky and incredulous, disbelieving. “What?” he says. “No—you can’t—“

“Xander,” Garon says again, his voice firmer but still even. “Leave.”

Xander blinks, trying to search Garon’s face for answers. Nothing. Garon is a stone cold statue, as he has always been. There’s still so much Xander hasn’t said and heart is still pounding in his chest, begging for release, catharsis.

He leaves as ordered. 

 

* * *

 

Olivia notices immediately that there’s something wrong when Inigo shows up at the ballet class.

“Inigo,” she says, putting a gentle hand on his arm, worry in her brow. He had just walked in the door and set his bag down, and was currently stretching on the floor. Most of the students were already around, warming up. “Did something happen?”

Inigo shrugs and smiles, shaking his head and straightening. “Oh, it’s nothing,” he says.

“No, it’s not,” Olivia says, sitting down beside him. “Honey, we don’t have to do this every time something’s wrong. You can just tell me.”

Inigo sighs. “All right. I know. I’m sorry,” he says. “It’s just… you know that one parent I always whine about?”

“Yes. There’s only one,” Olivia says. “All the other parents are angels. According to you, I mean.”

“True,” Inigo says. “Well, she complained to the principal about my, you know. ‘ _Teachings_ ’,” he says, drawing air quotes around the words. “And, um, also… she was there at the field trip, right? And during that day she said she noticed that me and Xander were always together and… she kind of told the principal she thinks we might be together?”

Olivia frowns. “Wh-what? Inigo, that’s so awful...” she says. “What did the principal do?”

“The principal’s a wuss, honestly,” Inigo says. “And according to him, Mrs. Bernard’s the school’s biggest donor. I told him that me and Xander were just good friends and he believed me since there isn’t really evidence for the dating accusation, but he wants me to apologize for all the other stuff.”

“No! That’s so… ugh, Inigo, I don’t like this,” Olivia says. “You’re not going to apologize, right? You haven’t done anything wrong. To be honest, you’ve only done right—teaching kids about love and acceptance rather than bigotry and hate? That’s amazing!”

“W-Well,” Inigo says. “I just… I don't want to. I mean, you’re right, I know there’s nothing wrong with what I teach. But… it just seems easier to say sorry? The principal put a lot of emphasis on how she was the school’s biggest donor, after all… I don’t really want to cause trouble.”

“Sweetie, no!” Olivia says. “You have to stand up for this. They’re the ones in the wrong, not you. You’ll go talk to the principal again, right?”

“I… I don’t know,” Inigo says, nodding. “You know me, Mom. I’d rather avoid confrontation. But at the same time, I guess you’re right… maybe I will give it a try. If I don’t chicken out.” Owain had said the same thing to him, too, when Inigo told him what had happened earlier (except he made a huge deal out of it, of course, as usual).

“All right, honey. Do you need some tissue? I have tissue in my bag.”

“What? No! Ugh, Mom, I’m not crying,” Inigo whines. He’s had a history of being a crybaby, which Olivia, as his mother, knew very well. But he isn’t crying now, and he certainly doesn’t cry at every little thing that troubles him, he is an adult.

(Okay. Maybe he did experience some teary-eyed frustration, earlier, right after leaving the principal’s office.)

“Sorry,” Olivia says, and she looked genuinely guilty for asking. “Just making sure. Do you want anything else, though? I have some food in my bag. Cereal bars, if you want. I have everything in my bag.”

“No thanks, it’s fine,” Inigo says. “...But maybe later.”

Olivia smiles, gladness glowing on her face. Even at her age she was still beautiful, Inigo thinks—no one else rocks wrinkles like she does. “Of course, sweetie,” she says. She walks off, turning to the class and clapping her hands to get their attention. “Everyone at the barre, now, please, we’re about to start!”

“Oh, um, Mom?”

Olivia faces him, while behind her the students get ready at the barre. “Yes?”

Inigo’s face heats up, and he averts his gaze to the ground. “Well, I was just wondering if it was okay with you if I joined the class today instead of teaching,” he says, scratching the back of his neck. “I mean, it’s kind of been a rough day… though if you don’t want me to it’s fine—“

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” Olivia says kindly. “Now get out there in position so I can begin my class.”

Inigo grins—a real smile—at takes his place at the barre. He hasn’t been in a class for the longest time.

“Get ready to be blown away by some real moves,” he tells the kid behind him with a confident smirk. Inigo may have a sense of crippling insecurity about almost everything, but his dance skills weren’t something he ever doubted.

It’s nice, performing the warm-up routine as Olivia gave them instructions. The tension in his body loosens as his legs bend and stretch, one hand firmly at the barre, the other following his movement, smooth as water. He feels the troubles in his mind floating away, slowly replaced by his mother’s relaxing, familiar voice telling the class _demi, and stretch… demi, and stretch… demi—_

The door bangs open. Everyone in the room jolts at the piercing noise, all graceful movement halting.

“I’m sorry! I’m _so_ late and I’m so sorry!” It’s Layla, one of the students. One of the most promising, too, though Laslow thought that she could work on her confidence (not that he of all people had the right to say that). She was already dressed in dance attire, with her hair clipped back because it was too short to tie in a bun. And in her hands was a tiny, shaggy dog, sticking its tongue out.

“It’s fine, dear,” Olivia says. “But… what is a puppy doing in my studio?”

“Oh! Um,” Layla says. “This is my, um, dog. Her name’s Sandy. You know, like in Annie?”

“Yes, that’s an adorable name, but why is she with you?” Olivia says.

“Well… you see, Madame Olivia—“ (Inigo had insisted that the students call his wonderful mother “Madame” out of respect, and it stuck)—“my friend told me yesterday she could watch over her but she just cancelled twenty minutes ago, and I usually leave Sandy with my mom when I have class but my mom’s in the hospital right now so…”

“Oh," Olivia says. That’s right, Layla had a sickly mother. When it came to matters like that, Inigo knows that Olivia doesn’t have the heart to reprimand her. “I suppose that’s fine, then… but only this once, all right? And she has to be very behaved.”

“Yes! Sandy’s very, very behaved,” Layla says. “Thank you so much, Madame Olivia!”

Layla sets Sandy down in one corner before going to her place at the barre. They resume with the class, and everything actually goes without a hitch, like there isn’t an actual canine in the studio.

They do pirouettes, and Laslow smiles to himself as he spins around. Dancing is the most wonderful thing. And the dog starts barking.

Inigo winces at the loud sound, and so does Olivia and everyone else. They all turn to Layla, who was holding her hands close to her chest, embarrassed.

“She’s… sensitive,” she says.

“Okay,” Olivia says calmly, and Inigo marvels at her patience. “Could you try to calm her down, please?”

Layla nods, plodding over to Sandy, stroking down her fur and whispering things to her that Inigo couldn’t quite hear. Sandy whimpers, and leaves Layla’s embrace to pad around the studio, her little paws making little skittering noises on the dance floor.

“H-Hey! Sandy…” Layla says, going after her dog.

Sandy the dog stops in the opposite corner of the room, where Inigo has taken his place. He blinks down at the dog. He’s always been more of a cat person. “Uh. Hi.” He lets out a jittery laugh. “Nice doggy.”

Sandy pants, sticking her tongue out. She lifts up her hind leg.

Dread settles into Inigo’s stomach. He thinks he knows where this is going. “Oh, noooooo,” he whispers.

The dog pees, and Inigo cringes at the gross tinkling sound of streaming piss. And if that still isn’t enough, she hunches over afterwards and shits on the floor.

A cacophony of disgusted groans clamors throughout the studio; Inigo covers his nose from the awful stench, backing away until he feels the cold barre hit against his back.

“Ohhhh, that is so gross,” one of the students say.

“Yeah, way to go, Layla,” another says, narrowing her eyes at Layla.

“Hey! There’s no time to point fingers. We have a class to get on with!” Olivia says, in a nasally voice because she was pinching her nose with two fingers. “Go open the windows. Layla, and please clean up your dog’s… poo. Inigo, there’s some air freshener in my bag, I think.”

“Madame Olivia,” Layla says, her tone wavering, like she’s on the verge of tears. “I am so, so sorry, I—“

“It’s fine, dear. We can fix this,” Olivia says, still holding her nose. “Just go clean it up.”

Layla nods, sniffling. “Yes, ma’am!”

“Why do you have air freshener in your bag?” Inigo asks Olivia.

“I told you, I have everything in my bag,” Olivia says. “For emergencies. Like this.”

“Inigo! Hurry!” says one student. “It _stinks_ in here!”

“All right, all right, all right!” Inigo zips open Olivia’s pink bag—filled with everything, just like she said. A flashlight, a collapsible umbrella, some cereal bars… He rummages into the bag’s cluttered contents before he finds something can-shaped. “I got it!” he says, shaking the can before popping off the cover and spraying it around the room as much as he can.

“AAAAARGH! What is that?!”

“The air freshener! It burns, it burns!”

“Oh, god, what is this?! A new scent called ‘Welcome to Hell’?!”

Inigo freezes. This is not the kind of reaction he was expecting.

The entire ballet class had descended into chaos; the studio was a blur of screaming bunheads, tutus, and leotards, with everyone tripping over each other.

“Inigo!” Olivia yells, holding her hands over her eyes. “That wasn’t my air freshener, that was my pepper spray!”

He reads the label on the can he’s holding.

“Oh, shiitake mushrooms,” he mutters to himself, hands shaking, and in his state of mess he accidentally sprays himself square in the face. “AAARGHGH FUCK FUCK FUCK _SHIT_ —“ The can drops to the floor, falling with a loud, metallic clang amidst the frenzied mayhem.

“Inigo?!” Olivia shouts again, holding her arms out in front of her. “Where are you?! I can’t see anything!”

“I’m here!” Inigo says, finding Olivia and holding onto her. “Why do you have pepper spray in your bag?!”

“It’s for _emergencies_!”

“I think this happened in a show I saw once!” says one student. “That’s kinda cool but also I think my eyes are melting so I guess it’s not so cool after all!”

“Mom? Hello? Can you bring me home please I’m scared,” yells another student who had miraculously escaped the pepper spray, trying to speak on his phone over all the screaming.

The one thing he thought would always be a safe place for him, he messed up. Like he always does, like he did with the principal and Mrs. Bernard, like he’s doomed to always do.

He hears one student shriek. “FUCKING SHIT OH MY GOD I THINK I STEPPED IN THE DOG POO—“

Inigo buries his face into his hands and groans. _What a stupid mess of a human being_ , he thinks.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter is the last, to be followed by an epilogue. hopefully it wont take another two months again, but ive gotten almost half of it written down so it should be fine! hopefully


	7. Xander Takes Care of Inigo

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I promised myself that this chapter wouldn't take another 2 goddamn months, yet here we are....here we are......
> 
> Special thanks to @dorkpatroller, my very kind and supportive friend who beta-read this for me! And also to my neighbor, who held a very loud Christmas party the other night. Because of the noise I could not sleep, so I was prompted to go do something productive and finish this chapter. Mariah Carey's vocals are very motivating, it turns out.
> 
> This is the last chapter. The next will only be an epilogue.

“Here you go, big bro," Corrin says, handing over two ticket stubs. She snorts. “That rhymed.”

Xander rolls his eyes fondly. “Thank you, Corrin.”

He had thought about telling Corrin about his meeting with Garon earlier in the day, but decided against it. Corrin’s in a good mood, and he knows that any mention of Garon being awful would ruin her day. Another time would be better, he had told himself.

Siegbert tugs on his hand. “Papa? What are those for?” he says, pointing to the tickets.

Xander crouches down to his level, holding up the tickets for him to see. “They’re for a musical,” he says. “A show in the theater. I’m going to give them to a friend as a gift.”

“A theater! I know what that is. That’s a, that’s a…” Siegbert says, clearly struggling. “Um.”

“A wonderful place where magic happens!” Corrin says. She’s visibly trying to keep herself from jumping in excitement. “It’s like a big, big room with seats and a big, big stage, and pretty curtains! Imagine a movie, but with real people acting it out in front of your very eyes! And it’s always amazing. Your Aunt Azura sings and dances there, actually! We should take you to a show sometime.”

Siegbert smiles timidly, fumbling with the hem of his shirt. “That might be nice, Auntie Corrin.”

Xander smiles at his sister. “Don’t forget to give Azura my thanks, please.”

“Pfft,” Corrin says, folding her arms. “Sure, I will. For, like, the thousandth time.”

“Showing your gratitude keeps you humble,” Xander says. “Perhaps you should try it sometime, little princess.”

Corrin shudders. “Ugh, gross, Xander, you still call me that?” she says. She holds up her hand, pointing to the ring on her finger. “I am an adult. A grown-up, married woman!”

Xander raises a brow. “Technically you still have a few months left before that, I believe.”

“Semantics,” Corrin says. “Hey, speaking of, you _will_ come with us to find my wedding dress, won’t you?”

“Of course,” says Xander. “I must say, I’m rather… excited. I remember all those times Elise roped the rest of us into watching _Say Yes to the Dress_ marathons with her.”

“Right?!” Corrin says, practically squealing. “Oh, those times were so fun. Camilla would get popcorn and we would all try to sit on you and Leo would fall asleep and then we would draw stuff on his face with a Sharpie…” she sighs. “Good times.”

“I have also been a victim to your… facial artwork. Don’t think that I’ve forgotten,” Xander teases—then his phone buzzes in his pocket. A text message. “Hold on, excuse me,” he says.

      **Inigo**  
       in the hospital lol

Xander blinks at the text message, his brow furrowing. In the hospital? What? Why?

“Papa?” Siegbert says. “Who’s that?”

“It’s… Inigo,” he says. What happened? Is he all right? “I need to call him, wait here for a while, okay?”

“Oh, okay,” Siegbert says.

Xander goes off into Corrin’s kitchen to be alone. He presses the call button in Inigo’s contact, holding on tightly onto the countertop. Inigo picks up right away, to his relief.

“Xander?”

“Inigo,” he breathes out. “Why are you in the hospital? Are you hurt?”

“Uh… yes. I’m in the ER,” Inigo says. “B-but! I’m fine! It’s okay, I’m okay… I-I don’t know, I guess just wanted to tell you, you really didn’t have to call me. I’m sorry if I worried you.”

“No,” Xander says. “No, it’s fine. I’m glad you told me. What happened, exactly?”

“It’s,” Inigo starts, “it’s embarrassing.”

Xander sighs. “Inigo, please.”

“All right, fine,” Inigo says. “I kind of accidentally maced almost the entire ballet class? Including myself? Though I do think that the dog is okay…”

“What? What dog?” Xander says. He shakes his head. “No, don’t answer that, never mind. I’m going over there.”

“Oh, okay,” Inigo says. A beat. “Wait, what?”

“I’m going over there.”

“What—no, Xander, you really don’t have to, it’s not a big deal!”

“I want to check up on you,” Xander says. “Unless you really don’t want me there?”

“No, I—“ Inigo says. he exhales. “I-I don’t know. I just don’t want to be an inconvenience. I mean, it’s just me, anyway, don’t you have more important things to attend to?”

“Inigo,” Xander says, sighing again. “You're important to me.”

Inigo doesn’t answer for a while. Xander bites his lip, wondering if what he said is too much. Then, Inigo speaks: “Oh. Oh… okay.” With how he’s saying it, Xander knows that he’s smiling on the other line. “Um. Thanks.”

“You don’t thank me for things like this,” Xander says. “It’s not a favor.”

“Right,” Inigo says. “Right. Ah, well, um. I’ll see you?”

“Yes,” Xander says. “I’ll see you.”

Corrin badgers him the moment he’s out of her kitchen. “Xander? What happened?”

“Siegbert’s teacher is in the hospital,” he says.

Corrin’s brows shoot up. “Oh.” She smirks. “ _Oh_ , Camilla’s told me _things_ about him.”

“It’s not like that,” Xander says. “We’re friends.”

“Mr. Inigo’s in the hospital?” Siegbert says, eyes wide with worry. “He’s sick?”

“He’s hurt,” Xander says. “I’m going to go visit him, okay? Can you stay with your Aunt Corrin for a while longer? The hospital isn’t far from here, I promise I won’t take long.”

Siebert’s lower lip wobbles. “But,” he says, “I want to go with you, Papa.”

“Siegbert—“

“Please? Can I?” Siegbert says. Xander is surprised; Siegbert is usually never like this, he’s always so obedient. “Mr. Inigo is in trouble! I want to help him, too!”

Xander and Corrin look at each other. Corrin gives him a soft smile and puts her hand on his arm. Xander sighs, and turns to Siegbert. “All right. You can come with me.”

Siegbert brightens up. He tackles Xander with a hug. “Thank you, Papa!”

 

 

Xander and Siegbert arrive with a teddy bear and a balloon that reads “ _bee well soon!_ ” along with a picture of a happy bumblebee. The gifts had been Siegbert’s idea.

The emergency room certainly was an odd sight: it was packed, mostly girls in short, flowing skirts and a few boys in dark tights, all holding ice packs to their eyes, some still groaning in pain.

“There he is!” Siegbert says, pointing.

In the middle of the room Inigo was going around—stumbling, really—with an ice pack in hand, still in dance attire, calling out names. “Layla? Where's Layla? Okay, there you are, I can vaguely make out your pink hair… no, wait, that hair’s too long—that’s my mom! Guys, Layla’s missing, has anyone seen her?”

“I think she ran to the bathroom to cry, Inigo,” says one dejected student.

“Oh, no….” Inigo says. “Damn it, I can’t go into the girls’ bathroom. That poor girl, can someone go check on her please?”

“Inigo?”

“Gyah!” Inigo cries out, turning around to face him. Xander steadies him with both hands. “O-oh. Xander,” he says. Xander doesn’t miss how a faint blush dusts over his cheeks. “You scared me. Everything’s still a bit blurry right now but I know it’s you because I don’t really know anyone else who’s as tall or blond.”

“Mr. Inigo, I’m here, too!” Siegbert says. He gives Inigo the teddy bear and balloon. “I brought this for you so that you'll feel better.”

“Awwww,” Inigo says. “Thank you, Siegbert. This is very thoughtful of you.” He holds the balloon close to his face, squinting. “ _Bee well_ … oh! Haha! That’s adorable. I love it.”

Siegbert bites his lip, smiling. “Do you like the bear, too?”

“Yes, I love the bear,” Inigo says. “In fact, I think I’m going to name him…” He puts a finger to his chin, thinking. “… Siegbear.”

Siegbert giggles, his small hands flying up to cover his mouth. “That’s like my name!”

Xander smiles and puts a hand on Siegbert’s shoulder. “How are you feeling right now, Inigo?”

Inigo waves offhandedly. “Eh,” he says. “I’ll live.”

Xander frowns. Before he can say anything else, he’s interrupted.

“Inigo!” Olivia says, rushing towards them. She looks like she’s doing better than the others, and doesn’t have eyes as sore-looking as Inigo’s. “Some parents have arrived. I just talked to them.”

Inigo winces. “And?”

“They’re not very happy,” she says. “No, it’s all right, honey. I know it was a complete accident. I’ll handle everything, okay? And—oh, um, hello, I remember you!”

“Ah,” Xander says. “Yes, yes, Inigo’s mother—we’ve met before. This is my son, Siegbert. Inigo’s student.”

Siegbert gives her a tiny little wave, half-hiding behind Xander’s legs.

“Hello, Siegbert,” Olivia says, stooping down to Siegbert’s level, in a warm tone that belonged to someone accustomed to motherhood. “I'm Olivia, Mr. Inigo's mom. It’s nice to meet you.”

“H-hello,” Siegbert says. “Um… are you a ballerina?”

“Oh!” Olivia says, laughing. “Well, yes, I suppose I am.”

“I may have mentioned to him once that you and Inigo have a ballet class,” Xander says.

“Mrs. Olivia?” Siegbert says. “Have you ever danced in a theater?”

“Why, yes,” Olivia says. “Several times, actually, though that was some time ago. Nowadays, I just teach. Would you like to learn how to dance ballet, Siegbert?”

“O-oh, um, me?” Siegbert says, pointing to himself. “W-well… um… I don’t know… it sounds fun, so… m-maybe…”

Xander chuckles. “You could always try it first to see if you like it. That’s fine.”

“When you make up your mind, swing by my studio! I have a class for kids your age. You’ll fit right in, don’t worry,” Olivia says. She straightens up and faces Inigo. “Inigo, you need to rest. Don't worry about the kids, they’re in good hands.”

Inigo frowns. “But—“

“Ah-ah-ah,” Olivia tuts. She pushes Inigo in the direction of an empty room. “Everything will be okay. The nurse said you should go lie down on a bed. Now, I think I should go and look for Soleil and your father… they’re taking far too long buying some drinks. I need to go and get them before they get into trouble.” She sighs. “You know how they are.”

“Soleil is here?” Siegbert says, excitement sparkling in his voice.

“That's right. She and her grandpa came here to see us earlier. Would you like to come with me to find her? We can get you some juice from the vending machine, too.”

Siegbert looks up at Xander for approval.

“Go help Mrs. Olivia look for Soleil and her grandfather,” Xander says, giving him a small push. “It’ll be nice to see your friend, right?”

“Y-yeah,” Siegbert says. “Thanks, Papa.”

“Come on, Siegbert,” Olivia says, taking Siegbert’s hand. “And you,” she says, addressing her son, “lie _down_. You need it. Besides, Xander will be here to keep you company,” Olivia says. “Right?”

“Yes, of course,” Xander says. “Though if Inigo wants to be alone, I’ll take my leave without complaint…”

“No, no,” Inigo says. “It’s fine. You came all this way already. Besides, I, uh. I like you just fine.”

“Oh,” Xander says.

“See? All good,” Olivia says. “You’ve been worrying over the kids all night, but they’ll be fine. They’re ballet dancers, Inigo. And ballet dancers are made of strong stuff.”

“I… okay. Yeah,” Inigo says, nodding slowly. “Yeah, you're right.”

Olivia and Siegbert leave. Inigo sits down on the bed in the empty room, still holding the Siegbear in his lap and the bee balloon in his hand. Xander sits in the chair by his side.

“Your mother is very kind,” Xander says.

“She is, isn’t she?” Inigo says. “She’s the best. I love her so much. I don’t know what I would do without her.”

Xander leans on the side table, smiling to himself. It makes him think of Camilla. He wouldn’t know what to do without her, either.

“Inigo,” Xander says. “How are you feeling?”

“My eyes are getting better.” Inigo gives him a tired smile. “Don’t worry.”

“That’s good. But,” Xander says, “how are you _feeling_? You… you didn’t sound like you were okay on the phone. Belittling yourself like that and all… you don’t really think that way, do you?”

“Oh,” Inigo says. “I’m sorry. I—I didn’t mean to…” He trails off, and sighs. “I didn’t mean for you to hear that kind of thing from me. It must have sounded so pathetic. I’m sorry.”

“No,” Xander says. “You don’t have to be sorry. It’s fine. Just… I want to help. You. I want to help you.” His lips press into a thin line. “Will you let me help you?”

Inigo looks at him, in a way that was odd and stunned and fond at the same time. Xander recognizes that look.

Inigo gives him the tiniest of smiles—like a secret, something to be kept. “Yes,” he says softly, and that's when Xander thinks he’s starting to realize what that look means. Xander smiles back, and that’s when he knows he’s not afraid of it.

He listens as Inigo tells him about his day. What happened, with the principal and Mrs. Bernard and the pepper spray and poor ballet kids. “I don’t know,” Inigo says. “I don’t really know what to do—and everything I’m upset about is so petty, I don’t know why I’m so bothered by everything. I’m sorry.” He laughs nervously. “I’m being so dramatic.”

“You are not,” Xander says. “It’s all right to be upset.”

“But I—“ Inigo says. “God, I can’t do anything right—“

“Inigo. Inigo, listen,” Xander says, reaching over to put a hand on Inigo’s knee. “Stay with me, all right? Breathe. It’s all right. Everything’s all right.”

Inigo nods, and takes in a deep breath. He exhales. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”

“Don’t beat yourself up over it,” Xander says. He closes his eyes. He’s felt like this before. His siblings have helped him with this before. “Just… let yourself feel. It’s hard, because it hurts, I know it does, but… don’t be angry with yourself for having something as human as emotions.”

“All right,” Inigo says, nodding some more. His voice is still a bit wobbly. He sniffs, and rubs his nose with the back of his hand. “Could you, ah, hand me some tissue?”

Xander gives him a wad of tissue from the side table. Inigo blows his nose. “I cry pretty easily,” he says, shrugging.

“That’s fine,” Xander says. “You know, my brother is a lawyer. I could get him to talk to the principal.”

Inigo looks up from blowing his nose, his eyes wide. “Wait, what?” he says. “Oh, no, no, no, no. Thank you, but no, that’s not necessary. I mean, I don’t want to complicate things… I mean, confrontations, those aren’t my thing… no, no, no, not at all…”

“He’s a very good lawyer,” Xander says. “I would even dare to call him the best. I’m not suggesting that we take the principal to court, but my brother could come by and…” He stops, thinking of what to say. “Scare him, possibly. Then they could stop asking you to ‘apologize’.”

“That’s… okay, how would that even work?” Inigo says. ”You really think your lawyer brother is going to scare him?”

Xander hums. “Maybe I should come and stand next to him when he goes up to the principal, then,” he says. “I can be scary.”

Inigo snorts. “God, you—“ He bites his lip, his shoulders shaking from laughter. Xander brightens up at the sight; it feels nice to make him smile after what Inigo’s been through today.

“Inigo,” Xander says, later, his tone kind and gentle. “You’re a ballet dancer, too. Like your mother said. You’re made of strong stuff.”

Inigo smiles at him. It’s the special smile. The one Xander likes. “This might be weird, but,” he says, “can I have a hug?”

Xander stands up, opening his arms out to him, smiling lightly. Inigo hugs him around the waist, and Xander wraps his arms around his shoulders.

Inigo buries his face into the crook of Xander’s neck. “You’re warm,” he says.

Xander holds him tighter. He’s tall while Inigo is short and fits just right under his the side of his jaw. He’s small but never weak, and Xander knows that he’s stronger than he thinks he is. Inigo doesn’t need someone to lean on—he just needs someone to remind him sometimes. Hugs do the trick.

The door creaks open. Xander and Laslow pull away from each other.

“Hey, what’s this?” says Henry. He’s holding two drinks in his hands, smiling in that strange, bordering-on-unsettling way. “Hug party? I wanna join!”

“M-Mr. Inigo!” Siegbert says. He has a box of chocolate milk in his hands. “Did you need a hug because of your ouchie? I’ll hug you!”

“Ooooh!” Soleil says, joining Siegbert and tackling Inigo around his legs. “Group hug, group hug!”

“Oh, don’t forget about me!” says Olivia.

                                                           

Soon enough, Inigo’s enveloped in a huge group hug from his family (plus Siegbert, of course). Xander smiles, watching from the sides.

“Hey! Siegbert’s dad!” Soleil says, reaching out to tug Xander’s hand. “Don’t just stand there! Silly Mr. Xander.”

Xander follows her, allowing himself to be pulled into the hug. “Silly me,” he mutters.

 

* * *

 

Corrin twirls on the platform, laughing, the big skirt of the wedding dress swirling around like a cloud. The wedding dress consultant, a kind elderly woman, stands beside her, smiling.

(Camilla almost blew up when she found out that there were only a few months to her wedding and she hadn’t bought or even picked out a dress yet.

“Huh? What do you mean it’s too late?” Corrin had said, “I mean… getting a wedding dress can't be too hard, right?”

“Corrin. Darling.” Camilla’s face was stern. “You do not just forget your wedding dress.”

“But I didn’t forget! And I have all the other things ready!” Corrin says. “The flowers and the caterer and the invitations…”

“Which I wrote,” Xander added. And it was true—he did the calligraphy. And he’s quite proud of his calligraphy.

Camilla’s brow twitched. She was almost snarling. Corrin winced, preparing for the blow that was about to come. Camilla never brought down her wrath upon her family, but on the rare occasion that she did, it was completely justified and not pretty at all.)

“That dress is so poofy!” Elise says from the couch, where she and Corrin’s seven other siblings miraculously fit. Barely. (They gave the poor consultant a fright when they entered the bridal shop). “I love it!”

“Elise, dear, you’ve said that about everything Corrin’s put on,” says Camilla, squished beside Xander. Xander had offered to stand to give the rest more space but Camilla insisted that it was fine.

“Say ‘cheese’,” says Takumi, holding out his phone in front of his face, poised to take a photo. One arm’s looped around Leo’s torso, who is sitting on his lap. “I’m sending another picture to Oboro for criticism.”

“Remember, Corrin,” Leo says. “No Oboro Stamp of Approval, no dress.”

“All right, all right,” Corrin says. She smiles, and Takumi’s phone camera goes _click_. “So, anyway, what do you guys think?”

“I think you’ll look good in any dress you put on,” says Ryoma. “Silas would think the same. You could walk down the aisle wearing a pair of hideous jorts and he would still cry because he’d think you look so beautiful.”

Corrin giggles. “That’s sweet,” she says. “But guys, come on! We talked about this. I don’t need say nice things, today is _brutal honesty_ time. So… is this _The One_ , or not?”

“No,” Leo says. He doesn’t look up from scrolling down his phone.

Xander sighs. “Leo.”

“What?” Leo says, shrugging. “Brutal honesty time.”

“I have to agree with Pretty Boy,” Hinoka says. “No offense, Corrin, it’s really pretty, but…”

“No, it’s okay,” Corrin says. She turns around to look herself in the tall, three-panelled mirror. “I know. It’s a gorgeous dress, but… wow, it feels weird saying this… it’s not _me._ ”

“There are dozens more dresses you can try on,” says the consultant. “Would you like to put on another one?”

“Yes, please,” Corrin says with an apologetic smile, and follows the consultant back into the dressing room.

“How many dresses has it been by now?” Ryoma asks.

“Six,” says Sakura. “Seven if you count the time she wore the first dress she put on again because she thought she liked it, but it turned out that she didn’t after all.”

“It’s our dearest Corrin’s wedding,” says Camilla. “She should be wearing the prettiest, most perfect dress, so don’t be mad that she’s taking her time.”

“I still think the second one is the best,” Xander says.

“Gross,” says Takumi, sticking out his tongue.

“The second one was horrid, Xander,” Leo says. “Horrid.”

“Now, don’t be so mean to him,” says Camilla, patting Xander’s arm. “It’s not his fault he was born with bad taste.”

Takumi snorts, while Sakura and Elise giggle. Xander frowns. “Why are we making fun of me?” he says. “We usually make fun of Leo. Can we make fun of Leo? I think he left his fly open again.”

“ _What_ —“ Leo says, looking down at his pants. His face turns red when he realizes there’s nothing wrong with his zipper. “Asshole.” Behind him, Takumi sniggers. Leo elbows him in the ribs.

It’s always fun, being with his own siblings and Corrin’s Hoshido ones. They were distrustful towards each other at first—almost hostile, even—but that was years ago. Now it's just like Xander’s gained four new brothers and sisters. The Hoshido siblings so similar to his own that getting comfortable with them hadn’t been a difficult task at all. It isn’t always that he gets to let himself fool around, or, as Elise would put it, _“chill”_ , and he’s grateful that he gets to have more people to consider family.

He’s even more glad for Siegbert’s case, though; when his mother died, Xander feared that Siegbert would grow up lonely with only his father around. Then he remembered that Siegbert had a hundred times more aunts and uncles than the usual child has, and that reassurance made things seem a little bit more okay.

“Ah, right,” Xander says, remembering something. “Leo, I need to speak to you for a moment, privately.”

“If this is an apology, I’d prefer it to be done publicly, thank you,” Leo says, even though he gets up anyway. “But I suppose I’ll humor you.”

Xander rolls his eyes. "We'll be back," he tells the others, and he and Leo exit the room.

“What is it?” Leo asks.

“I don’t normally ask for favors,” Xander says, “but…”

“A favor,” Leo says, raising a brow. He hums. “Interesting. What kind of favor?”

“A friend of mine—a teacher—is having some sort of trouble with a parent. Do you—“ Xander sighs, embarrassed—“do you remember the person we were talking about some time ago, when we had lunch in the coffeeshop—“

“ _Oh_ ,” Leo says, mouth twisting into a smug smirk. “Your crush.”

Xander scoffs. “He is _not_ —I told you not to call him that.”

“Whatever you say,” Leo says, snickering.

Xander shakes his head. “Back to the matter at hand,” he says. “Yes, this is about Inigo.”

“Inigo,” Leo says. “What’s up with this Inigo person, anyway? Why does everyone care about him so much?”

“What?” Xander narrows his eyes in confusion. “What are you talking about? Have you met Inigo?”

“No,” says Leo. “But my friend Owain knows him. He called me up the other day, saying his friend had been pulled into some ‘great injustice’ and as a lawyer it was my ‘duty to aid him in this dark, desperate time of need’… not like I specialize in real estate or anything, and that there are other people to talk to… he was really worked up about it. It was amusing.”

“Wait,” Xander says. “You know Owain?”

“Well, yes, I think I already established that.”

“But how did you meet him?”

Leo flushes. “No,” he says. “No way. It’s too embarrassing.”

“Really?” Xander says. “Leo, I’m your older brother. I used to help change your diapers when you were a baby.”

“Ugh, fine!” Leo says. He crosses his arms, and mumbles something that Xander doesn’t catch.

“What was that?”

Leo's red face wrinkles. “I said we used to play D&D in college, okay!”

Xander blinks. “I do not know what that is,” he says. “Though I’m assuming that it’s some sort of, ah, unusual… sexual practice, or…”

“ _Oh_ my god,” Leo says, his eyes wide, brows furrowed and nose scrunched up, like he’s going to explode.

“Now, I would never judge you—“

“Holy shit it is not a—oh my god, I’m leaving.” Leo brushes past Xander, making a beeline out of the shop.

“Where are you going?” Xander calls after him.

"To take a walk. I need it,” he says. And he actually leaves.

The door to the suite opens with Camilla. “Come back inside, Corrin’s found a new dress.” She looks around. “Where’s Leo?”

“His Highness the Prince of Drama needed fresh air and has decided to take a walk,” Xander says.

“That’s cute. You’ve been practicing your humor. Have you been watching video tutorials on Youtube?” Camilla says. “Though your delivery still needs some more work, in my opinion.”

“Very funny,” he says dryly.

“It’s a wonder how we’re related,” Camilla says. “Now, tell him to go back inside. The consultant tells us that she thinks this is… _The One_.”

 

 

It is _The One_. There's no doubt about it.

“Oh, Corrin,” Sakura breathes out in awe, holding her hands to her chest. “You look like a princess.”

“And not just any princess,” Elise says. “A totally badass princess who can slay the dragon all by herself! No, even better—A totally badass princess who IS the dragon!”

“Oh! Reply from Oboro!” Takumi says. "She loves it. Sent a lot of heart emojis, too. That’s a good sign.”

The consultant, smiling in the corner, offers, “Would you like to try it on with the veil?”

It’s like a spell unfolding, gradually, like slowly untying strings. The consultant settling the airy, flowing veil on Corrin’s head is the final swish of the magic wand, and the spell is complete. It’s the pumpkin turning into a carriage, the maid turning into a princess.

“Thanks, guys,” Corrin says from where she stands on the platform, facing herself in the mirror. She blinks back tears. “Just… gosh, wearing this dress… it’s like for the first time I actually feel beautiful. Like… not just pretty, but really, really beautiful.” She sniffs, laughing. “It’s really happening, isn’t it? Holy shit, you guys, I’m getting married.”

“You're getting married!” Elise says.

“I’m getting married!” Corrin says. She sniffs again, and wipes her eyes.

Xander’s eyes are a bit wet.

“My, my, Xander,” says Ryoma. “Getting a little emotional?”

Xander rubs his eyes, chuckling. “Be quiet, let me be emotional. My little sister’s getting married.”

“Oh, honey,” Takumi tells Leo, leaning his head on his husband’s shoulder. “Forrest would’ve loved to see this. He’s going to be so upset that we didn’t bring him.”

“I think he’d be more jealous than upset,” Hinoka says with a smile. “If you had brought him, he might’ve insisted that he should get a dress like his Auntie Corrin’s, too.”

“No. I draw the line at wedding dresses,” says Leo. “My son is too young to think about getting married.”

“So, Corrin, what’s it going to be?” Camilla asks. “Are you—“

“Camilla, no!” Elise shrieks. “I want to say it!”

“Say what?” Ryoma whispers to Xander.

“Shh.” Xander raises a hand to his face. “This is the most important part.”

Elise bounces, biting her lip in excitement. “Are you saying _yes_ to the _dress_!?”

Corrin nods. Some tears escaped her eyes and rolled down her face, but her cheeks were red with joy and she looked like she couldn’t stop smiling. “I’m saying yes to the dress!”

 

 

They have dinner after, since they’re all together and also to celebrate Corrin (finally) getting her dress. After the meal everyone piles out of the restaurant, hugging each other and saying goodbyes. Elise leaves first so she can start studying for an upcoming test, and Sakura follows to get back to her own university which was a bit farther away. Leo and Takumi leave to get home to Forrest. Camilla and Hinoka both still have work to do in their respective homes, and Ryoma has a meeting the next morning.

“I suppose I should get going, too. I hope Siegbert didn’t stay up late waiting for me again,” he says. He had left Siegbert with their long-time neighbor, a good-hearted old man who lives with his granddaughter (a teenager, older than Siegbert, but kind like her grandfather and always willing to play with Siegbert. Xander preferred to leave Siegbert with family when he couldn’t be with him, but they were good people and he trusted them).

“Siegbert’s always so cute,” Corrin says. “Hey… Xander?”

“Yes?”

“Nothing, I just wanted to ask you something,” Corrin says. “So, you see, um…”

“Well, spit it out,” Xander says. “Whatever it is, don’t be afraid to tell me. You’re not usually this tongue-tied.”

“I spoke to Father,” Corrin blurts out.

“Oh.”

“I sent him the invitation—which is beautiful, by the way, thank you—and he never replied, so I paid him a visit.”

Xander bites the inside of his cheek. “And?”

“And…” she says. “I—I know it was stupid of me to ask in the first place, but I asked him if he had any intention to walk me down the aisle, and he said that he couldn’t go to my wedding at all because he had something to attend, some… business thing in fucking London or something, I don’t know.”

“Corrin,” Xander says. Her hands are shaking. He pulls her into an embrace, holding her close to his chest. “Corrin, don’t listen to him. He doesn’t matter,” he says, smoothing down circles onto her back.

“I know,” Corrin says. “I know. I’m so dumb for even trying, I don’t know—what was I thinking, that he would actually care for once? I’m so fucking dumb.”

“You are not dumb,” Xander says firmly. “It’s not your fault. He’s just awful.”

He hates seeing her like this. He hates his father, for being blind to such a wonderful daughter like Corrin. Corrin always sees the best in people, always has hope that people can change for the better, and always gives second chances, and third chances and fourth chances. Their father is no exception. He ruined his chances every time, and he was a fool for doing so.

Part of Xander admires Corrin for having such unbreakable belief in others. The other part of him wishes she would stop, because he knows that more often than not it leads to her being hurt in the end.

Xander digs into his pocket and gives her his handkerchief. Corrin blows her nose on it. “Thank you,” she says. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to cry.”

“Crying is okay,” he says.

“Anyway,” she says, wiping her tears. “I wanted to ask you if you could walk me down the aisle instead.”

Xander stops. He blinks. “Wait,” he says. “Me?”

“I mean, I guess I don’t really _need_ anyone to ‘give me away’—” highly exaggerated air quotes here—“but. Well. You’ve… always been there for me… you know? I _want_ you to walk down the aisle with me.”

Xander swears he felt his heart grow three sizes when she said that. “Oh, Corrin,” he says. He thinks he’s going to start crying again. “I’d be honored to.”

Corrin’s face lights up in a smile, and Xander’s glad that he’s able to stop her from her tears, even just for a little while. “Thank you. Really, thank you.” she says.

Xander returns her smile, putting a hand around her shoulder as they walk to their cars. “Of course. Whatever makes you happy.”

“You know what would make me happy?” Corrin says, her grin distorting into something mischievous. “I’d like to see you bring a date to my wedding.”

“I—“ Xander starts, unsure of what to say. He sighs.

Corrin puts her arm around Xander’s shoulders, mirroring him (though it was a bit awkward because of the height difference). “Consider it?”

“If it makes you happy,” Xander says. “Then I will think about it, little princess.”

Corrin laughs and shoves him.

 

* * *

  

All it takes is a little googling to find the exact location of Olivia’s dance classes, as well as its schedule. (Contrary to popular belief, Xander isn’t technologically inept. At least not _completely_. He knows how to use the search bar, for god’s sake.)

When he arrives outside its building, there are some teenagers coming out in groups, with sports bags and hair buns, clearly Olivia’s students. It’s a little over six in the evening, and classes just ended, if the schedule on the Facebook page is correct.

The tickets are in his wallet. In his hands he holds a paper bag, and inside the bag is a blue baseball cap, clean and good as new.

He climbs a flight of stairs to reach the studio. It isn’t particularly large or impressive, but Xander supposes it’s charming in its own quaint little way, with mirrors all over the walls and smooth, wood flooring. But what catches Xander’s eye the most is the back of the room, where there is a cluttered desk and shelves with both CDs and books and, most notably, baskets and vases of flowers of every color and kind. There are throw pillows and blankets, and it feels like this isn't just a place to hold ballet classes in. Someone’s life, their whole world, lies here in this studio.

Xander clears his throat.

Olivia looks up from where she’s been working, arranging some flowers in a vase at the desk. “Oh," she says. “Oh! It's you! Um, how may I help you? Ah, wait! Are you here to sign Siegbert up for my class?”

“No, but in the future, possibly,” Xander says. "He hasn't really decided yet."

"Ah, okay, okay, I see..." Olivia says. “Oh, wait! How rude of me… please, have a seat!”

Xander sits at one of the chairs on front of the desk. Olivia puts away the vase she’s been arranging to the side, as well as some papers to make some space on the tabletop. She smiles at him nervously.

“It’s a bit of a mess in here, sorry,” she says. “So, uh, what is it you need, then?”

“Well,” he says, reaching into his coat for his wallet. “This may be a strange question, but I suppose I should just be frank. Can I trust you to keep a secret?”

Olivia tilts her head to the side, her mouth dipped in a little frown. “Oh. Well,” she says. “That certainly is a very… vague… question…? I don’t really follow—“

He holds up the tickets.

“My goodness, what are these?” Olivia says, taking the tickets from Xander’s hands with such care and respect. Her jaw drops when she reads what’s on them.

“Ah…” Xander says. “Is everything all right? I know that the date’s very far from now, but they were the closest I could get, so I hope it’s fine…”

“N-N-Never mind the date, these… these are… how did you even get these? They must’ve cost a fortune!” There’s a shocked wobble in her tone. “I don’t know why you’re giving these to me, but I really, really can’t accept them—no matter how much I want to—they’re too expensive!”

“Actually,” Xander says. “I bought them for Inigo, because he mentioned wanting to see it once. But I bought two, so perhaps you could persuade him to take you…”

“Oh,” Olivia says, blinking. “Well, that’s… that’s very sweet of you. I can’t thank you enough for thinking of my son, and this is going to make him so happy, but… why would you do something like this?”

Xander considers this. All that happened was that Inigo said that he really, really, really wanted to see this show, and the first thing Xander thought was, _I should buy tickets for him_. “It’s just like you said,” Xander says. “This is going to make him happy. And… I want to see him happy. He’s my friend, and he’s done so much for me and Siegbert. It is, honestly, the least I can do.”

“ _‘The least you can’_ —oh, honey,” Olivia says, putting a hand to her chest. “Thank you. Inigo’s going to be ecstatic about this. He’s really lucky to have someone like you.”

“Please, it’s not a big deal,” Xander says. “I have something else, too. This is for Soleil.” he puts the paper bag on the table, and pulls out the blue cap.

Olivia takes the cap and inspects it with both hands, reading the label on the front. “This is from the museum they went to on their—“

“—Field trip,” Xander finishes. “Yes, I bought it.”

Olivia smiles. “I think Inigo said something about a hat Soleil wanted,” she says. “So now you’re an angel for not just him but my granddaughter, too?”

Xander looks down sheepishly. “She’s Siegbert’s best friend,” is all he says. “All I ask is that you don’t tell Inigo or Soleil that these are from me. I hope that’s all right.”

“What?” Olivia says. Her face falls in confusion. “But why?”

“Well,” Xander says. “The tickets cost a lot, and so did the hat, a bit. I don’t want Inigo to feel indebted to me. That’s not my intention.”

“Oh,” Olivia says. She’s looking at him with the most gentle, sincere expression. For a brief moment he wonders what it would’ve been like if his mother hadn’t passed away so early. “My boy really did pick a good one, didn’t he?”

Xander feels his face turn hot. “Ah,” he says. “Well… I wouldn’t really call myself—I told you, ma’am, it’s really no inconvenience at all—“

“Hush,” she says, holding up a finger. “I won't have it. You've done enough for my family, and I'm not just talking about these things you bought. Remember the pepper spray fiasco? I know you wouldn’t have come if you didn’t care.”

Xander doesn’t really know what to say to that. He had hoped Olivia wouldn’t fuss over about it too much, and he would admit to himself that he’s more than a little bit flustered right now.

“Just,” Olivia says, then stops and just smiles at Xander for a while. “Just know that I’m very grateful. I am so, so happy for my son right now. I know Inigo doesn’t want to pursue a relationship at the moment, but I also know that he’ll come around sooner or later because he _does_ like you, and he likes you _a lot_ , and I just want you to know that I very much approve of… this. The both of you. You’re a good person, Xander. After all, from what I’ve seen, you like him very much as well, don’t you?”

“I…” Xander’s face heats up even more, but he takes in a deep breath. “Yes. Yes, I suppose I do. No… I’m sure I do.”

Olivia’s smile widens. “Well, if it helps…” she says. “I like you. You have my blessing.”

Xander lets out a breath, and it comes out more as a relieved laugh, really. “Thank you, Olivia,” he says. “Thank you.”

 

* * *

 

Xander and Leo work out a date where they’re both available, and when the day comes they drive to Siegbert’s school in Xander’s car, just in time as classes end and the students are let out. In their sharpest, most intimidating suits, of course.

Xander smiles when they find Siegbert playing with other kids, instead of being alone by himself in a corner, like that day when he picked up his report card (which was also, notably, the first time he met Inigo).

“Sieg, Sieg, it’s your dad! And some guy with a headband.” Soleil tugs on Siegbert’s sleeve, pointing towards Xander and Leo. Siegbert turns around, and his face breaks into a big grin once he sees his father. He drops the ball he was holding to run towards Xander and give him a hug.

“Papa! I almost forgot that you were coming!” Siegbert says. “Did you know that Mr. Inigo gave me a star for doing a good job in class? And that I can count up to one hundred now really fast if I try really hard? Oh, and we learned a new song! I can sing it for you later.”

“That’s wonderful, Siegbert, I’m very proud of you,” Xander says with a smile, kneeling down to embrace Siegbert properly. “I’m looking forward to that new song.”

“I’m here, too,” Leo says from beside him.

“Oh!” Siegbert says, looking genuinely guilty with his mouth pulled down in a little worried frown. On his tiny, chubby face, it was absolutely adorable. He goes over to Leo and gives him a hug as well. “I’m very sorry, Uncle Leo. I didn’t forget you.”

Leo lets out a low laugh, patting Siegbert on the head. “It’s all right, Siegbert. I’m not upset.”

“Siegbert, there’s something your Uncle Leo and I have to do first,” Xander says. “You stay here with your friends while you wait for us, okay? I promise we won’t take long. And we can get ice cream after, if you want.”

“I like ice cream,” Siegbert says, twiddling his thumbs.

“Aww, I also want ice cream!” says Soleil. “Mr. Xander, are you going to talk to Daddy? Will you tell him to get me some ice cream, too?” After a while, she adds, as if she just remembered it: “Please?”

“Of course, but I can’t give you any guarantees,” says Xander. “Though Siegbert’s uncle here is a lawyer, and convincing people is his job, so maybe it could work.”

Leo puts on a wry smile. “I’m very good at my job, you see.”

Soleil squeals a “Thank you sososososo much!”, and Xander and Leo turn to say goodbye. Xander leads Leo to Inigo’s classroom, where Inigo had texted him to meet him. They find him there, standing on one of the colorful chairs and hanging up decorations on the wall.

Inigo turns his head around when he hears them come through the door. “Oh, you’re here!” he says, pausing from putting up people-shaped paper cut-outs on a cord. The cut-outs all have different clothes and characteristics, all lovingly drawn in messy crayon. A students’ project.

“Do you need some help with that?” Xander asks, gesturing towards the paper-people. He could easily reach the cord without needing to tiptoe on a chair.

“It’s fine! I’m almost done, anyways, so I can just finish up later,” Inigo says. “Uh, wait, just let me come down…”

“Let me.” Xander holds out a hand.

“What a gentleman.” Inigo takes his hand, and Xander helps him get down from the chair. “Thank you, again, for coming. You really didn’t have to.”

“It’s no problem. We just wanted to help,” Xander says. “How are you?”

“Fine,” Inigo says. “Well, the parents of my ballet kids don’t want to see my face at the studio anymore, so there’s that. B-But not all of them! And my mom says she thinks they’ll cool down after a while. Maybe.”

“Inigo, that’s awful,” Xander says. “If there’s anything I can do to help—“

Inigo waves a hand. “No, no! It’s fine. I mean, that one was completely my fault anyway. And you help me too much already.”

Xander’s ready to retort when he’s cut off by Leo. “Which one is Siegbert’s?” he asks, looking at the paper-people and scrutinizing the kindergartener artwork.

“Oh, it’s that one.” Inigo points to a blond one, with notably long legs. “The kids were asked to draw what kind of people they want to be in the future. Future Siegbert is very tall, isn’t he?”

Leo huffs a laugh. “Just like his dad.” He turns to Inigo. “I’m Leo. You should know me as Xander’s brother. Unfortunately, I did not inherit the absurdly tall genes as he did. Pleased to meet you.”

Inigo shakes his hand. “Inigo, Siegbert’s teacher. You’re taller than me, at least, though I guess pretty much everyone is taller than me, so, oh well. Pleased to meet you as well. You don’t know how grateful I am to have you here.”

“Yes, I heard,” says Leo. “I supposed it wouldn’t do much harm to humor my brother. Owain, as well, no matter how eccentric he is.”

Inigo raises his brows. “Wait, you know—“

The door slams open with a bang. “AHA!” Owain proclaims, striking a pose that does not fail to give Xander a strong sense of second-hand embarrassment. “Leo, my bosom friend! How the seasons have passed since I have last seen your noble profile! Not a single soul understands the intentions of the wicked Demogorgon better than High Prince of Darkness Leo!”

“I take back what I said,” Leo says. “I don’t know who this strange man is. I have never seen him in my entire life, not once.”

“My heart!” Owain clutches his chest. “It twists in pain by the hands of your cruel words. How you wound me!”

“I didn’t know you and Dork Almighty knew each other,” Inigo tells Leo, not minding Owain.

“That’s because you never came with me whenever I invited you to play Dungeons and Dragons with us!” Owain whines.

“Oh, is that what D&D is?” Xander asks. It certainly doesn’t sound like a weird sex thing anymore. “I remember now. That’s the board game you used to play a lot.”

Leo turns pink, looking off to the side. “All in the past!” he says. “Can we get back to the matter at hand, please?”

Xander nods. “Yes, the principal. What’s our plan?”

“We go in there,” Leo says slowly, as if explaining to a toddler. "And scare him.” That was what Leo did to everyone: make you feel like an ignorant child that didn’t know anything.

“Surely we should have a more elaborate approach than that,” Xander says.

“Xander, just leave it to me. I told you,” Leo says, “I’m very good at my job.”

“All right!” Owain says, pumping his fist into the air. “Let's march towards the principal’s office! Tonight, justice shall prevail!”

“It’s three in the afternoon,” Leo says.

“Wait, before you guys go up there, can I just talk to Xander first?” Inigo says. “It won’t take a minute.”

“All right,” Leo says. He pushes Owain out the door. “We’ll wait outside.”

The door closes behind him and they’re alone. “What did you want to talk to me about?” Xander says.

Inigo folds his arms and narrows his eyes, probably trying to look menacing. It doesn’t really work. Xander wonders if he’s ever successfully scolded Soleil. “I know it was you,” he says.

“Know what was me?”

“The tickets!” Inigo hisses. “Oh, that was you. It had you written all over it.”

“Ah.” Xander’s mouth dips into a small frown. A heavy feeling settles into his stomach. “Did you not like it?”

“What? No! No, that isn’t my point,” Inigo says. “It’s just… why’d you do that? You really, really didn’t have to. You don’t have to do any of these things, really, but you still do them anyway! I just—I don’t understand why.”

“I know I didn’t have to, but I still wanted to.” Xander sighs. “You already know how I feel about you. I just want to make you happy.”

Inigo bites the inside of his cheek. “Is that why you bought the hat for Soleil, too?”

“That’s different,” Xander says. “At the time, she reminded me of someone. My little sister. And she’s done a lot to make Siegbert happy, so… I assumed that it wouldn’t hurt.”

At that, Inigo manages a little smile. Xander’s heart breathes out in relief. “Well… thank you. I don’t really know how to put it in any other words, so… thank you,” Inigo says. “I am a bit curious, though… how’d you manage to get the tickets? That’s pretty much impossible.”

“Oh, I have a friend in the show.”

“Wait, what?” Inigo’s eyes are wide. “What? You know someone who’s in the show and you didn’t even bother to _tell me_? Xander de Nohr, I _never_!”

Xander puts his palms up. “I didn’t know for sure if she was in the same musical at the time. I called her after to make sure, and when she said that yes, she was in your beloved Marth musical, I was able to get tickets. Well, secure tickets. I still had to pay for them.”

“Oh my god,” Inigo says. “See, that’s another reason why I feel iffy about accepting this. Those tickets are expensive! And you didn’t just get me shitty back-of-the-balcony tickets, you got _orchestra_! What the hell!”

“Well,” Xander says. “I am sort of rich.”

Inigo rolls his eyes with a smile. “I think you’re a little bit more than just sort-of-rich, Xander.”

Xander huffs a laugh. “All right, I can’t argue with that.”

“In all seriousness, though,” Inigo says. “As much as I wholeheartedly appreciate everything you do, I think I’d like it much better if you got things that didn’t have such jaw-dropping price tags. That way, my gifts for you won’t feel shitty by comparison.”

“You don’t have to repay me, and I would be grateful for any gift you give me.”

“I know,” Inigo says. “I just feel a bit uncomfortable with it, you know. I’m sorry.”

“No, I understand,” Xander says. He smiles so that Inigo would know that he’s not upset. “I’ll keep that in mind from now on.”

Inigo snorts. “You always take everything so seriously, don’t you? If I ask you to do something, you’ll always give your one hundred-percent. But I guess that’s part of the reason why I think you’re so endearing.”

“I’m often told that I come off as intense,” Xander says.

“Yeah, kinda.” Inigo smiles. “But I think it’s cute.”

Xander ducks his head, hoping to hide the faint blush that has dusted his cheeks.

“Well, we should get going. Oh, but wait.” Inigo grabs Xander’s tie, pulling him down, and tiptoes just enough to give him a soft peck on the cheek. “For good luck. Since nobody can see us here, anyway. Now let’s go kick some principal ass.”

Xander nods, the blush on his face stronger than before. He feels light and elated but at the same time ready to take on anything. That coward of a principal better prepare himself.

Outside the room, Leo’s showing Owain pictures of Forrest on his phone, with a proud look on his face. “You _must_ enroll your son in this fine institution once he is of the proper age!” Owain says. “It would be the _greatest honor_ to indoctrinate the progeny of the High Prince of Darkness in the primary fundamentals!”

“That is ridiculously redundant, you know. ‘Primary fundamentals’.” Leo looks up from his phone to see Xander. “There you are. I was wondering when you two would finally stop flirting.”

Inigo’s face turns bright red. “Wh-What—“

 _We weren’t flirting_ , is the response that comes to Xander’s mind first. “We all had to put up with you and Takumi’s flirting, too, you know,” he says instead.

Leo sputters for a second, then shuts his mouth. “Whatever,” he says, like a twelve year-old.

“I believe we are all ready to embark on our journey to the second floor,” says Owain, pointing off to the not-so-far distance, towards the stairs. “To the principal’s office! Follow me!”

 

 

It isn’t really as hard as Xander thought it would be. The principal really is, to put it bluntly, a wuss.

Inigo clears his throat, once he, Leo, and Xander are in front of the principal. “Good afternoon, sir. I’m so sorry to come up here on such short notice, but there are a few concerns I’d like to discuss with you.” He gives the principal a confident smile. Xander wants to clap him proudly on the shoulder.

The principal pushes his glasses up his shiny, bald head. “Mr. Inigo. Yes, of course. What can I do for you?”

“I’m just asking you to listen, really. You see,” Inigo says. “I’ve brought a lawyer.”

The principal’s face falls. “Oh?”

Leo steps forward in a smooth, concise motion. “Leo de Nohr, esquire,” he says, in his lawyer voice that was nothing but preciseness, and then proceeded to recite all his credentials like he was reading his own resume. With every accomplishment that comes out of his mouth, the principal seems to shrink back further into his seat, slightly shaking.

Then Leo starts spouting out legalese. Perplexing, discombobulating, mind-aching legalese that even Xander does not understand.

Inigo glances off towards him, sending him a look. _What’s going on_ , he mouths.

 _No idea_ , Xander mouths back.

That’s fine, it doesn’t matter; what matters is that Xander does his job, which is doing what he does best. Stand beside Leo at his full, imposing height, and glare daggers right at the principal’s face.

He’s very good at his job.

“But. But,” the principal stammers. “You must understand. Mrs. Bernard—she is our school’s biggest donor! You must understand the, the dilemma I have here—“

Leo’s about to cut in but Xander speaks first. “For god’s sake,” he says with a disgruntled breath. “ _I’ll_ be your donor!”

The principal blinks up at him. “Really?”

Inigo speaks up as well. “Really, Xander?”

“It is a good investment, I suppose,” Xander says. “It wouldn’t hurt to support the betterment of basic education. After all, this is a good school.” He narrows his eyes at the principal again. “If we ignore certain aspects, that is.”

“Well,” Leo says, shrugging. “I suppose we are sort of rich.”

Xander raises a brow, the very hint of a smile forming on his lips. “I think we’re a little bit more than just sort-of rich, Leo.”

He glances at Inigo, who’s looking pleasantly surprised with his eyebrows raised and mouth open in a little ‘o’. They share a smile.

“I suppose we are,” Leo says. “Better put all that money to some good use, isn’t it?”

The principal lets out a nervous little titter. “S-so… I see now that everything is settled?”

“Oh, far from it.” Leo’s smile twists into a vile leer. He sets the leather briefcase he’s brought with him on the desk and flips open the latch. “If you would just take a look at several of these documents…”

The principal, trembling, gulps. The corner of Xander’s mouth quirks up. Beside him, Inigo coughs into his hand. Xander knows it’s to hide his laugh.

 

 

“Well, that was tremendously and surprisingly fun,” Leo says. They’re walking back to where Siegbert was waiting, now.

“What?!” Owain says. “Leo never finds anything fun, so if he says something was fun it’s gotta be fun!” He pouts. “I wish I was with you guys.”

“You should’ve seen his face,” Inigo says, laughing. “My god. His face.”

Xander frowns to himself. “I do hope we didn’t keep Siegbert waiting too long.”

“Oh, don’t worry.” Inigo slaps his arm. “He’s got Soleil. If they’re together, they’ll both be fine.”

“They really do get along, don’t they?” Xander says. “Soleil’s always energetic and Siegbert’s a quiet boy. It’s a nice balance.”

“Wouldn’t it be nice if they stay friends as they grow up?” Inigo says. “I hope they do. That way, I’ll still have excuses to keep bothering you.”

“You don’t bother me,” Xander says. “Our children don’t have to stay friends for us to stay friends. Though I admit that it would be nice.”

“Daaaaddy!” Soleil runs towards them, with Siegbert trailing behind. She tackles Inigo with a hug. “Are you done? Can we go home now?”

“Uh-huh.” Inigo bends down to tap the tip of Soleil’s nose. “Just let me go say thank you to Mr. Xander, okay? We’ll be super quick.”

“I’m sorry to make you wait again,” Xander tells Siegbert. He wonders what Inigo has to say to him this time. “Your Uncle Leo will be here with you. So will Mr. Owain.”

“It’s okay, Papa. Uncle Leo and Mr. Owain are fun,” Siegbert says.

“Dude,” Owain tells Leo, sniggering. “A kid just called you fun. New achievement.”

“Oh, ha-ha.” Leo rolls his eyes. “Little did you know that I actually can be fun. It may be somewhat difficult for you to believe at first, but it’s true. Isn’t that right, Siegbert?”

Siegbert nods. “I think it’s a lot of fun when you teach math to me and Forrest, Uncle Leo.”

“Oh, yeah, that sounds like loads of fun,” Owain says. Leo huffs and crosses his arms.

“Come on.” Inigo brings him by the arm around a corner, where they can have some privacy.

“What is it?” Xander asks.

“Nothing, really. I just wanted to thank you.” Inigo says. “For everything. You helped me in my job, you bought me tickets, you’re so nice to me and my daughter all the time… Really, I don’t know if just saying thank you is enough. I don’t think it is. If there is anything I can do to repay everything you’ve done—“

Xander stops him right away, putting up his palm. “Of course there’s no need to pay me back, Inigo. I told you already,” he says kindly, “I did it because I wanted to.”

Inigo bites his lip, then sighs. “Well, okay. But really, if there’s anything you need, anything at all…”

“I told you, it’s fine,” Xander says. Then he stops, remembering something. “Wait, actually…”

“Yes?”

“Well. There is something I’ve been meaning to ask you, but of course I don’t want you to feel like you have any obligation to do it, and you're free to refuse me.”

“Sure, of course. Ask away.”

Xander frowns. “I mean it. I don’t want you to be forced into saying yes, so only answer depending on your true wishes. The things I’ve done should have no impact on your decision—“

“I know, I know!” Inigo says, laughing. “Xander, don’t worry. I get it, I understand.”

“Okay. Good.” Xander breathes in. This is all hard to say, all of a sudden. “You see… my sister is getting married. The wedding’s in late June, after the school year ends, and I’ve been meaning to ask you if you could…” Xander shifts his gaze to the floor. His face feels hot. God, what is he? He feels like a stammering middle schooler again, trying to ask out his crush to the dance. How perfectly humiliating. Just say it already. “…If you could be my date.”

“Oh.” Inigo blinks, eyes wide. “Oh!”

“I-Is that a yes or no?” Oh god there it is. The stutter. Xander mentally punches himself in the face.

Inigo laughs. “A yes, of course, you dummy.” In a quieter, shyer voice, he says, “You know how I feel about you, anyway.”

“Ah.” A smile grows on his face. “Yes. All right. I, ah, I’ll send you the details, then?”

“Yeah. Yeah. I’ll put it in my schedule.” Inigo grins, his face brightening even more.

“Okay.” Xander nods, still smiling. “Okay.”

 

 

Leo gives him a look while they walk back to the car. “What’s with that look on your face? You’ve been smiling a lot.”

Xander shakes his head, carrying Siegbert and holding him close. “Nothing.” The smile could still be heard in his voice.

 

* * *

 

        **Xander**  
       Inigo, I almost forgot. Soleil asked me to try to convince you to get her ice cream.

        **Inigo**  
       Hmmmmmm  
       Well I don’t see any convincing ;)

        **Xander**  
       I’ll buy you ice cream after the wedding.

        **Inigo**  
       Haha omg I was kidding  
       I wouldve bought her ice cream anyway  
       But you said it already so youre buying me ice cream after the wedding!!!!!  
       IM SCREENSHOTTING THIS FOR PROOF NO TAKE BACKS!!

 

* * *

 

The graduation comes by faster than Xander expects. It’s not the first kindergarten graduation he’s attended; he and Camilla didn’t have graduations in kindergarten, but Corrin, Leo, and Elise did. He still has pictures of them with fat, little cheeks.

“Papa,” Siegbert says. They’re having breakfast, and Siegbert has a solemn look on his face that didn’t belong on a five year-old—six year-old now, actually, Xander corrects himself. “I have something to talk to you about.”

“Oh?” Xander puts down his coffee. He watches Siegbert sip his juice with his brows furrowed, and it tugs at Xander’s heart when he realizes that it’s something Siegebrt must’ve learned from watching him. It would have looked more mature if he weren’t drinking from a sippy cup, though.

“Mr. Inigo won’t be my teacher, anymore, won’t he?”

“No, Siegbert, I’m afraid he won’t. Mr. Inigo is a kindergarten teacher, but you’re moving up to the first grade now.”

Siegbert’s face scrunches up in a frown.

“But that doesn’t mean you won’t see him anymore,” Xander adds quickly. “You’re still friends with Soleil, and he’s her dad. And the both of you will still go to the same school.”

“And you’re friends with Mr. Inigo, right, Papa?”

“Yes, I am. You’ll still see him, Siegbert, so please don’t be sad, okay?”

“But,” Siegbert says, “I want him to be my teacher. So he can still teach me things and we can still sing songs.”

“You’ll have more teachers. I’m sure you’ll like them just as much as you like Mr. Inigo.” Until you get older and they give you the awful, strict ones, Xander thinks. “I know it’s hard to say goodbye to someone you care about, but sometimes it’s what you have to do.”

“But I don’t have to, right? Not all the time?” Siegbert says. “What if you and Mr. Inigo get married? Then I’ll be with him all the time, right?”

Xander can’t help but let out a huff of disbelief. “What is it with you and me getting married to Mr. Inigo?” Little children think in such peculiar manners.

“Well, Papa, you told me one time that you like him, and I know that Mr. Inigo likes you too for sure, and Auntie Corrin told me that when two people like each other a lot they get married, like with her and Uncle Silas. That’s why you and Mama got married before, right?”

“Yes, you’re right, but I’m afraid it’s not as simple as that. I had known your mother for a long time before we even became a couple. Marriage doesn’t come that quickly, and I’ve only known Mr. Inigo for less than a year.” _You’ll know more about it once you’re older_ , Xander is about to say, but he hates saying that, so he holds his tongue.

Siegbert pouts. “Okay…”

“If it makes feel better,” Xander says. “I’ve asked Mr. Inigo to come with me to Aunt Corrin’s wedding. He’s going to be bringing Soleil too. That’ll be fun, yes?”

The smile returns to Siegbert’s face. “Yes.”

 

 

Xander thought that Elise had been joking when she said that all of them were coming to Siegbert’s graduation.

She was not joking.

“Siegbert!” Elise squeals, picking Siegbert up. “I haven’t seen you in ages!”

“Awww, oh my god, babe, look.” Corrin tugs on Silas’s sleeve. “He’s wearing a little toga and cap and everything.”

“I still don’t see the point in kindergarten graduations,” Leo says. Beside him, Takumi carries Forrest in his arms. “It’s kindergarten.”

“Leo, be quiet,” Camilla says. “It’s a time to celebrate their achievements. They may not be big achievements to a big shot like you, but they are to the kids.”

“Yeah, that,” says Takumi. “Or, like, something.”

“Siegbert, it’s my turn for a hug!” Corrin opens up her arms. “Stop hogging him, Elise, come on!”

Xander watches Siegbert be surrounded by his loving family with a smile. He’s glad that Siegbert gets to grow up with all these people who love him. It’s only a shame that it wasn’t very often that all of them were all together.

“Xander?” It’s Inigo’s voice.

Xander turns around to see him, clipboard in hand. His smile only widens. “Inigo. Hello.”

Inigo looks past Xander, at his siblings with Siegbert. “Is that your…”

“Family? Yes. I have a lot of siblings.”

“It certainly looks fun.” The both of them watch Silas carry Siegbert on his shoulders, while Camilla plays with him and Forrest nags for his turn for a piggyback ride. It comes to Xander’s mind that Inigo is an only child. “I just meant to tell you that the program’s about to start soon. Could you tell your siblings to take their seats, please?”

“Yes, of course.” Xander takes in Inigo’s slightly disheveled look, how the rings under his eyes are darker than when he’d last seen him. “Inigo, are you all right? You look tired.”

“Oh, yeah, I’m fine, just been a bit busy because of all the graduation stuff. It’s always like this at the end of the year, don’t worry,” Inigo says, waving a hand. “Why, is it that obvious?”

“A bit, yes.”

Inigo groans. “I look that bad?”

“You don’t look _bad_.” A beat. “Just like you need a massage, possibly.”

Inigo sighs. “Well, everything’s almost over. After a couple more weeks of work I can _finally_ have my own summer vacation. Then I will get all the massages I want.”

“At least you have a summer vacation,” Xander says. “I still have to go to work over the next two months.”

“I mean, yeah, true. Speaking of, you’ve been looking good lately. I-I mean, uh, like, as in, you’ve been looking healthy. Yeah. You usually look like this—“ Inigo pulls a face, drawing his brows together and setting his mouth into a deep frown (Xander half-scoffs, half-laughs)—“but recently you’ve been looking better. I’ve been meaning to tell you that.”

“Well, I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but several areas of my life have been getting better, recently.”

Inigo smiles. “I’m happy for you, Xander.”

Inigo has to leave a few moments after to take care of some other things, and another couple of minutes after that the graduation program’s starting.

The program takes place in the field, where chairs and a stage had been set up. Xander and his siblings take up an entire row. They make quite some noise too, Xander admits with embarrassment, with Elise chattering with Camilla and Leo explaining to Forrest what a graduation is and Corrin speaking to Silas in her usual loud voice. More than once some of the other parents have sent them looks over their shoulders. But it’s a fond kind of embarrassment, really—Xander may be cold, but he doesn’t think he has it in him to ever be ashamed of his family.

The old graduation tune plays through speakers, and the graduating kindergarteners march in wearing their tiny blue robes and caps in a neat, single-file line led by the teachers. Clearly, they had practiced for this. There’s a commotion as nearly everyone in the room shuffles to get out their phones and cameras. “Look at them!” Elise says, cooing over the children.

Xander finds Inigo among the teachers without difficulty, waving and smiling at him. Xander gives him a small smile back, nodding.

Beside him, Camilla lets out an excited gasp. “There goes Siegbert,” she whispers.

It is quite strange, Xander admits, to watch his little boy waddle around in a graduation gown and cap when he’s still so small. Xander could tell that he’s nervous, especially since there’s so much people around, with the way his chin crinkles in a frown and how he fidgets with the hem of his sleeves. Once he nears Xander’s row, Xander calls out his name, his own phone camera at the ready. Siegbert snaps his head to the sound of his father’s voice, and Xander doesn’t even have to say tell him to smile when he takes the photo. The grin stays on Siegbert’s face even as he takes his seat with the other children.

The opening remarks conclude (done by the principal, no less, and Xander holds a hard look on him throughout his entire speech; the principal made the mistake of locking eyes with him once and he stuttered in the middle of his sentence). A teacher comes up the stage and replaces the principal on the podium. She starts announcing the awards. Nearly all of them belong to Siegbert.

(Nearly all of the academic ones, that is. This being kindergarten, there are still a lot of silly ones. The Sunshine Award for the Brightest Smile goes to Soleil, for one.)

Siegbert’s very flustered, having to come up, get his certificate, shake the principal’s hand, and go down the stage more than once. He’s walking in a circle, really. “Best in science… Siegbert de Nohr!” Applause. Siegbert goes up and down the stage. “Best in reading and writing… Siegbert de Nohr!” Applause. Siegbert goes up and down the stage again. Repeat cycle.

Xander takes around a hundred pictures. In all of them, Siegbert is there smiling red-faced, embarrassed from all the attention he’s getting.

Elise laughs. “He’s just like you! A mini-Xander!”

“Do you genetically pass down your study habits?” Leo says.

“Yes, Leo, my son was born into the world holding a textbook and a highlighter,” Xander says.

“Best in math!” Siegbert’s name is called again. As he shakes the principal’s hand, his eyes find Xander’s in the audience.

 _I’m so proud of you_ , Xander mouths. He hopes that the way Siegbert’s smile grows by a fraction isn’t just his imagination; he hopes that Siegbert understood. Even if he didn’t, it’s fine. He has so much time to tell him later, and to tell him again, and to tell him again.

His siblings cheer the loudest, though, when the actual diploma-giving starts. Siegbert, even in his young, innocent age, looks absolutely humiliated by Corrin’s shrieks of “That’s my nephew! That’s my nephew—look at him! He’s so smart! Go, Siegbert, WOO!”

The swelling pride in Xander’s chest is swiftly replaced by something else as it comes to his mind that Siegbert is growing up. It’s like he’s envisioning the next twelve years or so, with Siegbert graduating from high school and moving onto college and leaving home. It only feels like minutes ago when Xander first swaddled him in his arms.

“Xander?” Camilla puts a hand on his shoulder. “Are you all right?”

Xander blinks. “I’m fine,” he says. “I just… realized that Siegbert won’t be so small forever.”

“He won’t,” Camilla says, because there’s no other way to put it.

“I’ve watched Corrin and Leo and Elise grow up, too. We both did,” Xander says. “And I trust Siegbert. He’d make a wonderful grown-up.” Better than him, hopefully. Xander purses his lips. “I only wish it wouldn’t happen so fast.”

“I know, Xander,” Camilla says. Xander does not miss the sadness in her smile.

Xander is about to reply when he’s cut off by a bang. He whips his head around to see that the set of double doors opening out to the field have been slammed open, with a confusingly large amount of all sorts of school-age children in what seems to be ballet attire, judging by the tutus.

One of the them shouts, waving, “Inigo! Hi!”

Xander snaps his head back to the front, to Inigo standing at the side of the stage. Inigo is mortified. He ducks his head and hides his face behind his clipboard.

“Who the heck are they,” Takumi says.

A gasp. “Daddy!” Forrest says. “You can’t _say_ that, that’s a bad word!”

“That would be Inigo’s ballet class,” Xander says. “Though why there are here, I don’t know.”

Another gasp, this time from Elise. “No way, he teaches a ballet class?! Oh my god, Xander, I’ve been thinking of trying ballet, you _have_ to give me details!”

“If you’re joining, then I want to, too,” Camilla says. “It would be so much fun to be there. I imagine poor Mr. Inigo would be all flustered, having his crush’s sisters in his class. He’d be tripping over himself to impress us.”

Xander narrows his eyes. “Camilla,” he warns.

“Oh, wait, count me in, too!” Corrin says. “It can be, like, a sister thing!”

A parent sitting in the row front of them turns around to face them. “Excuse me,” she says with her nose scrunched up, “do you mind? My daughter’s about to go up on stage. _Some_ of us are trying to listen to the program.”

“Sorry,” Corrin squeaks, bashful. Beside her, Leo hides his sniggers behind a hand.

 

 

Xander picks Siegbert up in the biggest hug when he finds him after the program ends.

“I am so proud of you,” he says. “More than I could ever properly convey.”

“O-Oh,” says Siegbert. “Um. Thank you, Papa. I love you.”

Xander wraps his arms around him tighter, but still careful not to hurt him. “I love you too, Siegbert.”

“Everyone!” says Corrin. “Let’s go get dessert to celebrate! My treat! And after today, I think Siegbert deserves a million ice cream cones. With lots of fudge and sprinkes.”

“Thank you, Aunt Corrin, but Papa says that eating too much sweets is bad for you,” Siegbert says. “… But can I still have _one_ , though?”

“Of course,” says Xander. “Really, you can have more than one. Anything you’d like right now, I’d be more than happy to give you.”

“Sieeeegbert!” says a voice that Xander has come to recognize as Soleil’s. She’s a few meters away, with some other classmates. Standing nearby them is Inigo, congratulating other parents. “Come here! Play with us!”

Siegbert looks up to Xander. “Papa, can I please go?”

“Sure.” Xander puts him down, and he waddles off to join his friends. They all welcome him with warmth and wide smiles, and Soleil crushes him in a big hug.

Camilla walks up beside him. “It’s so nice that Siegbert has good friends.”

“I was worried, before,” Xander says. “He had a hard time talking to the others. It’s good to see that he’s fine.”

“Oh, hey. There’s your charismatic teacher.” Camilla tilts her head in Inigo’s direction. “Why don’t you go say hi?”

Xander sighs. “Camilla…”

“I’m just saying,” she says. “Technically, the school year has ended. Technically, he isn’t Siegbert’s teacher anymore.”

“Well…”

“Look, he’s calling you over,” she says, and Xander looks and it’s true. Inigo’s done talking to the other parents, and now he’s waving Xander over. “You should go, or else it would be rude. You don’t want that.”

“Ooooh,” says Elise, popping up. “Xander’s going to _make the moves_!”

“Oh-ho-ho!” says Corrin, following behind. “You should’ve warned me first. I could’ve brought popcorn.”

“Watch closely,” Leo says, holding up a pen to use as a fake microphone. “Here, we witness the never-before-caught-on-tape mating rituals of the rare Xanderis hugedorkis…”

Camilla snickers, Corrin laughs, and Elise snorts. Xander groans. “Sometimes,” he says. “Sometimes, I swear to god.”

“Just go already.” Camilla pushes him. Xander stumbles forward, and he manages to keep a straight face while Corrin whistles and Elise whispers—but more like loudly hisses—“Go Xander! Big bro! You can do it!”

Inigo looks very confused.

“I would like to deeply apologize,” Xander says, “for the commotion happening behind me.”

Inigo stares at him, then he snorts. It’s an ungraceful little snort, really, but Xander finds it endearing nonetheless. “Well, your siblings are certainly very… very—“ he snorts again—“amusing. If you will.”

Thankfully by now they’ve stopped, shushed into silence by Silas. Xander thanks the universe for Corrin marrying someone sensible into the family.

“I wanted to say congratulations,” Inigo says. “Well, Siegbert’s the one who deserves it, but I already congratulated him and I wanted to talk to you too. You must be so _proud_. See, just like I told you—star student.”

“I am proud.” Xander turns his gaze to Siegbert playing with his classmates. “More than you can imagine. I know he’s really worked hard. And I’m glad that it’s not just because of wanting to do decently in terms of academic performance—Siegbert is genuinely interested in studying and learning things, and I suppose I have to thank you for that. I do hope that that’s one lesson that stays with him. You’ve been a wonderful teacher to my son, and you’ve taught him so much. Thank you.”

It means a lot to Xander, considering that he doesn’t really remember the last time he ever studied so hard for a test because he actually liked what he was studying, not because he was scared of failure.

“O-O… Oh,” Inigo stammers. His face is very, very red. “W-W-Well, um, well, I mean, _me_?” He lets out a shaky laugh. “I didn’t—I didn’t really do much, honestly, that’s so…” He averts his eyes away from Xander, towards the ground, clutching his clipboard tightly. “This is embarrassing…”

“What do you mean, ‘you didn’t do much’?” Xander asks, frowning. “Inigo, you’ve done so much for Siegbert and the rest of your students. You’re a great teacher. You should know that.”

“Well… well… okay. I-If you say so.” There’s a wobbly smile on Inigo’s face now.

“Since the graduation’s over, your work for today is finished,” Xander says, laying a hand on Inigo’s shoulder. “You did a good job. You should rest; you deserve it.”

Inigo shifts. “Ah, it’s not entirely over, actually…”

“Hm?”

“Uh… yeah, look behind you,” Inigo says. Xander turns his head. “My ballet students. They’re here and I have no idea why.”

Oh, Xander thinks, spotting them standing behind the rows of chairs, huddled and discussing amongst themselves. There had been no more empty seats when they arrived, so they had to stand at the back for the duration of the program. One of them sees Xander and Inigo looking at them, and Xander hears a panicked shout of “Shit! He’s talking about us! Guys, quick, what’s our plan of action!?” followed immediately by a “SHHH!”

Inigo sighs.

“I remember you mentioning something about not being allowed to teach your mother’s class anymore,” Xander says. Inigo shrugs, pretending that it doesn’t really bother him, but Xander knows that it does.

“Well, yeah,” Inigo says. “Like apparently their parents don’t want me anywhere near their kids ever again, because I am a human disaster—“

“—You are not a disaster—“

“—So I don’t know how they’ll even react when they find out their kids came to visit me, or something.” Inigo sighs again. “I should go tell them to leave.”

“I’ll go with you,” Xander says.

Inigo puts on a smile as he greets the students. There are a lot of them, and Xander puts his guess at somewhere between fifteen and twenty. “Hey, guys! Nice to see you all. It’s been a while. Looking good, looking healthy, every one of you. You’re _not supposed to be here_.” He almost hisses that last part through his gritted, grinning teeth.

“We know,” says one girl. “It was all Layla’s idea, though.”

All eyes turn to a scared, pink-haired girl who Xander assumes to be Layla.

“I—I… there w-was something we needed to tell you a-a-and I th-thought it would be n-nice to tell you in p-p-p-person… with all of us, you know…?”

Inigo crosses his arms. “Well, go on, then, tell me.”

“You can come back to the studio again!” says a girl who can’t be older than twelve, wearing a fluffy pink tutu.

Inigo blinks. “What? Says who?” he says. “I mean… you all know how angry your parents are. At me. For the entire mess that was Macepocalypse. They basically chased me out as an angry mob like I’m Frakenstein or something. I nearly entertained the idea of running away to the outskirts of Las Vegas out of my own shame and start my life anew.”

“Why Las Vegas?” Xander asks.

“Because that’s what Sutton Foster did,” Inigo says, like it’s obvious, except it’s not, and Xander has no idea what that means. “Anyway, young lady, please explain yourself.”

“We started a petition thing,” says the tutu girl. “Like, ‘please sign here if you think that Inigo should continue teaching us’. And everyone signed it! Like, everyone. And then we held a meeting kinda thing with all our parents to explain the situation and show them the signatures and now everything’s settled!”

“Wow,” Inigo says. “First of all, I am incredibly touched. Second, hold up. A signature campaign that actually worked? Now that’s impressive.”

“Oh, the petition didn’t work on its own,” says an older student. “During the meeting, I had to get my little sister from the beginner’s class to cry and throw a tantrum in the middle of the room until we came to an agreement.”

“Ah.”

“So?!” says the tutu girl. “Are you coming back?”

Inigo bites his lip. “I don’t know, guys,” he says. “I’m not really sure—“

“Inigo, please,” says Layla. “We love Madame Olivia, but… but… we love you too! We can’t stand a whole summer without you! Or worse, even longer than that!”

The rest of the students seem to agree. Inigo stands there, jaw dropped in shock.

Xander leans over to whisper to him. “If you don’t close your mouth, a fly might get in.”

Inigo clamps his mouth shut. He gives Xander a small smile before turning back to the students. “Well… of course I need to check with my mother and your parents to be sure, but. Yeah. Of course.”

The little tutu girl gasps. “Yay!” She bounces up and down, clapping her hands. Several of the other students cheered and whooped as well. Xander thinks it’s sweet of them to think of Inigo, but he winces at their loudness. He had thought ballet dancers would be more… refined. Children will be children, he supposes.

“Thank you so much, Inigo!” Layla says, tackling Inigo with a hug. Inigo stumbles backwards but he pats her on the back anyway. “I-I just wanted to say I’m very sorry because all of this was m-m-my fault a-anyway, so…!”

“Layla,” Inigo says kindly, pulling away so that he could look at her. “There’s nothing to apologize for. Things mess up sometimes. I have never blamed you, even for a second.”

Layla looks like she’s about to cry. “Y-Y-You’re so nice, Inigo.”

Xander smiles at the sight of Inigo with his students. He treats them differently from how he treats his kindergarteners, of course, because they’re older, but the love and care for them is still evident in the way he talks to them and asks them how they’ve been doing while he’s been gone.

Someone taps his shoulder.

Xander turns around to see Camilla, holding Siegbert by the hand. “Apologies for disturbing you, but we do have reservations for dinner. Which we could be late for if we don’t leave soon, you must know.”

Siegbert nods solemnly. “Traffic, Papa. Uncle Leo said so.”

“That certainly is an important concern,” Xander agrees. Siegbert’s mature facade breaks when he grins. (He’s just happy to be taken seriously). “But have you said goodbye to your classmates? You won’t be seeing them in classroom come Monday, you know.”

“I did, Papa. And look! Soleil gave me a goodbye gift.” He shows him what he’s been holding in the hand that isn’t holding Camilla’s, a little button pin with the picture of a cartoon frog on it. “She said it’s her favorite but because we’re best friends she’s giving it to me.” He frowns. “I didn’t have anything for her, though.”

“You’ll see her over the summer. They’re coming with us to the wedding, remember? You can give something to her next time,” Xander says. Siegbert nods, lightening up. “Now, just give me a moment to tell Mr. Inigo we’re leaving.”

“Okay, Papa.”

Later, they walk to the parking lot to meet with the others. Siegbert walks in front of them, admiring his new frog pin, and they stay behind to keep an eye on him.

“So,” Camilla says. “I heard that part about ‘them coming with us to the wedding.’”

“Ah. Well,” Xander starts, a bit flustered. He keeps his voice low so that Siegbert wouldn’t hear, out of his own embarrassment. “Corrin may have persuaded into taking a date as my plus one.” He stops and thinks for a moment. “Though since his daughter is coming as well I suppose that would make it my plus two… no matter; I had already cleared the issue with Corrin. She said it was fine.”

“At least now we know for sure that Siegbert won’t be bored,” Camilla says. “I’m happy for you, though. Things seem to be looking up for you, aren’t they?”

Xander watches Siegbert toddle a few steps ahead of him, chin up and swinging his arms, singing a song. A happy, confident Siegbert, and an image he wants to keep in his heart forever. He thinks of the days to come, his sister’s wedding and getting to spend time with Inigo and hopefully even more chances after that. Maybe it’s not perfect—there’s still his discontentment with work, after all, but anyways there’s always Peri to brighten up his days in the office and besides, when is anything ever perfect?

Xander doesn’t need perfect. Not anymore.

They find the others, waiting in front of Corrin’s and Leo’s cars, parked side by side. Xander’s own car is nearby. Elise scolds them for being late with her hands on hips, with Forrest beside her mimicking his aunt’s pose. It makes Corrin snort and giggle terribly, and Silas has to rub her back to calm her down. Leo’s stomach growls, and Takumi joins in Corrin’s laughing.

Camilla’s right, he decides.

 

* * *

 

It’s nighttime now outside the window of Siegbert’s room. The bedside table lamp casts a warm orange light over the bed, not too bright to be irritating but just enough for Xander to be able to read the words on the pages of the storybook. They’re both lying on the soft blankets; Siegbert is snuggled against his chest.

When Xander hears a snore he stops reading to look down on Siegbert, eyes closed in slumber. It had been a long day, with the graduation and the dinner afterwards, leaving both Siegbert and Xander exhausted. But Xander couldn’t refuse when Siegbert asked for a bedtime story, and he’s also not surprised to find him falling asleep in the middle of the second storybook.

Careful not to rouse him, Xander gently pries Siegbert off him, and slips out of the covers. Siegbert squirms at the loss of something to cling to, and Xander places a stuffed bunny rabbit in his place.

“Good night,” he whispers.

Siegbert snores in response.

After making sure he’s all tucked in, Xander lays a soft peck on his forehead and switches off the lamp. The faint outlines of the glow-in-the-dark stickers of stars and planets on the ceiling start to glow.

Xander goes to his office to finish some work on his computer, working well into the night until his eyelids are heavy and yawns bubble up from his chest. He finishes at last, at least for the night, and withdraws into his own room, settling into his own bed.

The doorbell rings.

Xander pauses, frowning. He spares a glance at the clock—it’s nearing midnight. Who could that be at this hour? He hopes the doorbell didn’t wake Siegbert. He leaves his room, wrapping a robe around himself. There’s no light nor noise coming from Siegbert’s room when Xander checks, so he should be fine.

Thankfully whoever’s waiting doesn’t ring the bell again, but Xander still goes to answer it. He hopes it isn’t too important. He’d like to get some sleep.

Standing in the doorway, straight-faced and in a suit, is Garon.

Xander’s grip on the doorknob almost falters. “Father.”

“Xander.”

“It’s… very late,” Xander says, with a crease in his brow. “What are you—“

“I have come to speak with you,” Garon says, in that professional tone that means strictly business. Then, to Xander’s surprise, his voice changes with his next few words, quieter, as if he’s catching himself. “May I come in?”

Xander’s frown deepens, and he feels every inch of body go rigid. He lets him in anyway. Xander leads him into the dining area and offers him a seat at the table. He sits across from Garon.

“I asked my chauffeur to drive me here,” Garon says, toying with the leaves of the plant that serves as the table’s centerpiece. “From the airport. I just returned from a series of important meetings.”

If Garon is going to stall, then fine. Xander jumps straight to the point. “Why are you here?” he asks. After that encounter in Garon’s office, Xander has found that he’s not that quite afraid of him anymore.

Garon lifts his eyes to look at him.

This close, Xander can see the hard, weary lines on his face, the restless bags under his eyes.

Xander finds his voice once more. “If you’re here only to scold me like I’m a boy again—“

“No,” Garon says, with a shake of his head. “No, I am not.”

“Then,” Xander says, more frustrated and exhausted than ever, “what—“

“I remember, when Camilla was a baby,” Garon interrupts again. “There was a marshmallow that fell on the floor. And Camilla picked it up and ate it, and you ran to me crying because you were so worried that she would get sick from eating a dirty marshmallow.”

Xander doesn’t recall any memories similar to that. He sighs in frustration. “What are you saying?”

“You were always better at taking care of them than I was,” Garon says. There’s a far-off look in his eyes.

Xander stares at him blankly, more confused than ever. “Father, what are you saying?”

“I think,” Garon says. He speaks slowly, deliberately. “That I will be retiring soon.”

Xander blinks at him. Surely he had misheard. “What?”

Garon heaves a long sigh, dragging it out, and leans back into his chair. “I’m tired, son.”

Xander’s mouth opens, then he closes it, thinking. “I… I don’t understand.”

“You know, you weren’t the only one to lose your patience with me,” Garon says, closing his eyes.

“What?”

“Corrin,” he says. “She ended up yelling at me, when I told her that I wasn’t coming to her wedding. Blew up, really… I always knew that girl had fire in her. It all had to come out eventually.”

Xander stays silent. Corrin never told him about that. He remembers her tears, her shaking shoulders as he held her while she cried. If he closes his eyes, he can imagine her shouting, pouring out her anger at Garon.

“Not once has Siegbert ever smiled at me,” Garon says. “Neither has Forrest.”

“I still don’t understand,” Xander says.

“I’ve explained already,” Garon says. “I’m tired. Like you are, as you said.”

Xander looks at him, pained. “You can’t expect me to forgive you, just like this,” he says. “Not this easily. Not even ever, perhaps.”

“I know,” Garon says. “I know, Xander, I know.”

 _I miss you_ , Xander wants to say. _You used to come to my games when I played baseball in elementary. You used to let me ride on your shoulders._

He doesn’t say any of it.

A strained silence.

“What will you do now?” Xander asks.

“I said that I will retire soon, not right away,” Garon says. “Give me some time, to think. Give me some more time. Then… then I will go.”

“But what will you do _then_?” Xander asks. “Where will you go?”

“Away,” Garon answers. “Someplace, somewhere. Where exactly, I don’t know yet. All I know is that I’ll be far. You and your siblings won’t have to see me. Maybe Paris. Europe. Lots of nice women there.”

“That isn’t funny,” Xander says.

Garon gives him another look, then sighs, shaking his head.

Xander looks down at his hands. “What am _I_ going to do?” It comes out small and weak. He feels like a child.

“You will lead Nohr Corporation,” Garon says, as if it’s that simple.

The words sink in. Of course he’s known this; it’s what he’s been working towards his entire life. He had always known that it would be passed to him, just like that, on a silver platter, but he wanted to be worthy of it as well. So he had spent his years working, pushing himself to be better.

And yet he finds himself hesitating.

What will be the look on Siegbert’s face, he wonders, when he has to tell him that he has larger, heavier responsibilities now, that he’ll be spending more time on work than ever?

“I can see that you’re thinking very hard about it,” Garon says.

Xander meets his gaze. He still does not speak.

He jolts slightly when all of a sudden Garon gets up from his seat, with some effort. “You’re leaving?” Xander says.

“I mustn’t keep my chauffeur waiting,” Garon says. “I will escort myself out.”

Xander watches him walk away, his steps slow with age and exhaustion. He stops before going through the doorway leading to the foyer, turning to face Xander again.

“Xander,” he says. “Put thought into your decisions. Don’t…” He stops for a while, as if struggling to get the words out. “Don’t make choices you know you may regret.”

With that, he leaves. Several seconds later, Xander hears the door creak open, and the faint sound of it being carefully shut.

For a minute, he sits by himself. Then he stands up and pours himself a glass of wine.

 

* * *

 

On the day of Corrin and Silas’ wedding, Xander tears up during the ceremony. His watery eyes leave both Siegbert and Soleil very, very concerned, at least until he assures them that he is crying only out of joy.

Inigo teases him for it throughout the rest of the evening with a playful smile. Xander doesn’t even pretend to pout and be upset—his heart is light and for once his cheeks hurt from smiling, because tonight there’s no principal, no Mrs. Bernard. Tonight, Xander doesn’t have to worry about taking Inigo’s hand in his when they walk to the reception hall, with Siegbert and Soleil ahead of them.

(Well—it hadn’t gone completely without worry, in a sense. There had been some hesitation at first. _Can I touch him? Am I allowed to hold his hand?_

Which had all disappeared into the crisp night air when Inigo turned to him, gave him a smile that said, _Of course it’s okay, silly_ , and entwined their hands together.

 _Oh_ , Xander had thought.)

The music playing is too lively for Xander’s usual tastes, but he supposes that he can tolerate it for just one night. No, not just tolerate—enjoy, even, when Soleil knows the song and is making Siegbert sing along with her, when Takumi is waltzing with Forrest on the dance floor while Leo watches them, smiling, and when Corrin, in her beautiful dress, is spinning around with Silas holding his arms, laughing all the while.

“Your sister knows so many people,” Inigo says, after taking another sip of champagne. “There are people I _know_ here. Small world!”

“Mm,” Xander hums. Corrin had always been the type of person to have a hundred friends and care very deeply about each and every one of them. Of course she’d invite them all to her wedding.

(“So,” Severa had said. It turned out that Corrin knew Felicia, who had brought Severa as her date. “We meet again, Alexander.”

It took Xander three seconds to recognize her. Then he fixed her with a confused stare. “My name is not Alexander,” he said. “I’ve told you about this before.”

Severa’s face scrunched up. “And?”

“I mean to say that my name is, quite literally, just Xander,” Xander says. “It says only ‘Xander’ on my birth certificate.”

“Whatever. Xander’s too edgy and pretentious.”

At this point, Inigo had pushed her away. “Stop bothering me and my date and just go back to your girlfriend!”)

Camilla’s table, where she is sitting with her date, Charlotte, as well as Leo and Takumi, is the one right beside Xander and Inigo’s. She leans over her chair to talk to him. “Xander! Inigo!” she calls. “You lovebirds haven’t danced all night!”

Inigo blinks, startled at being addressed. His face is very red. “Oh, well…”

From across Camilla’s table, Leo snorts. “Don’t tell me you can do a double pirouette but not a waltz.”

“Excuse _me_!” Soleil pipes up. She has a foam mustache from her strawberry milkshake. “My daddy can do ALL the dances! Plus he can do a TRIPLE pirouette!” Beside her, Siegbert nods his head seriously, still chewing with his cheeks full of pastries. Xander doesn’t think he knows what a pirouette is.

“Thank you, buttercup,” Inigo says, with a hand on his heart. “I know I can always count on you to defend my honor.”

“We just don’t want to leave the children alone, that’s all,” Xander says.

“Ha!” barks Charlotte. Xander startles at the loud outburst, and Inigo covers his mouth to hide his laugh. “Oh, ex _cu_ ses! As if Camilla’s not right here literally beside them to watch over your kids.”

Camilla puts her hand over Charlotte’s on the table. “This beautiful woman does have a point,” she says. “What say you, Xander?”

Xander turns to Inigo with his brows slightly raised, inquiring. Inigo gives him a small smile.

“Daddy!” Soleil puts her hands on her hips. “Just take Siegbert’s dad and go already!”

“We’ll be okay, Papa.” Siegbert grins and wipes the crumbs from his face with his table napkin. “We’re big now.”

Xander hears the dragging of Inigo’s chair as he moves to get up, and when he looks Inigo’s standing before him with his hand outstretched. “Well?” Inigo asks, with a smug tilt to his head. “Or maybe you’re the one who doesn’t know how to dance.”

Xander lets out a light-hearted scoff, and takes Inigo’s hand.

“So you do know how, then?” Inigo says as he leads him to the center of the reception.

“I may know a thing or two,” Xander says. He lifts his hand for Inigo to hold, and puts his arm around his waist. Inigo does the same. Xander leans in to whisper to him. “Though I must disclose that I’m not very good.”

Inigo laughs. “Don’t worry. You’ll get to practice a lot with me.”

It puts flowers blooming in his heart, to remember that Inigo wants to take this seriously. To realize that Inigo wants this as much as he does. Inigo’s steps are careful and steady, just enough for Xander’s clumsier footwork to catch up. Something comes to mind.

“I’ve never seen you dance before,” Xander says.

“You’re dancing with me right now,” Inigo says. Xander gives him a fond, exasperated look. “Well, okay, so you haven’t seen me _really_ dancing.” A light blush dusts Inigo’s cheeks. “Honestly, it’s super embarrassing to think about you watching me.”

Xander frowns. “Why? Everyone says that you’re good.”

“I know I’m not bad at it,” Inigo says. “It’s just that, well… oh, never mind.”

“What is it?”

“Well… I don’t know.” Inigo shrugs. “I want to impress you.”

Xander actually snorts. That brightens up Inigo’s face, at least. “I assumed that we were already past the ‘trying to impress each other to catch the other’s attention’ stage.”

Inigo groans, leaning into his shoulder. “I know,” he says.

Xander turns his gaze back to their table. Takumi and Forrest have come back from their dance, and Forrest is sitting in Inigo’s chair so that he could play with Siegbert and Soleil. Somehow, Elise is in the mix now as well, and appears to have brought with her a plate piled high with sweets she must’ve swiped en masse from the buffet table.

“They seem to be having a good time,” Xander says.

“Hm?” Inigo lifts his head. “Oh. Yeah. Your siblings are really good people, Xander,” he says. “And your _nephew_. Such _style_. I wish he and Soleil would get along. Maybe he could get her more into fashion. Unfortunately my daughter only wants to wear Peppa Pig dresses. It was a miracle getting her to wear something nice for today.”

Xander chuckled lowly. “Well, maybe. Forrest has tried getting Siegbert more interested in the past, to no avail.”

“Shut up, I can still hope,” Inigo whines.

The music comes to an abrupt halt, and everyone in the room stops dancing. Xander doesn’t miss the tiny frown it puts on Inigo’s face. There’s the loud sound of someone tapping a mic, and the MC, Anna, is on stage again.

“Sorry to interrupt, folks,” says Anna. “But it’s time for an important wedding tradition! Today’s newly-wedded bride, Corrin, will be throwing her bouquet soon, so single guests, please head towards the stage if you wish. Dancing couples, clear the floor! This is for single guests only!”

Inigo takes Xander’s hand. “Hm,” he says. “Are you single?”

Xander tightens his fingers around Inigo’s. He smiles. “I do hope not.”

Inigo smiles wider, and tugs on his hand. “Let’s find somewhere more private, then.”

They’re easy to miss while everyone else is moving about, crowding towards the stage or leaving the dance floor. Inigo leads and Xander follows, and they slip out through one of the doors heading out of the reception hall and into an adjacent garden. The night air is cool, and all the noise and chatter from the reception is reduced to a mere buzz.

Inigo doesn’t stop smiling at him. He hasn’t let go of Xander’s hand. Inigo’s mouth opens to say something, and then—

Cheers from inside the reception hall, loud even when heard from outside. Inigo rushes to the door and peeks through one of its window panes. “Oh,” he says. “It’s Mozu.”

“What?”

“Mozu. She caught the bouquet,” Inigo says. “I think she was just sitting at her table with Oboro, but it landed in her hands anyway…”

“Goodness,” Xander says. “She must be very embarrassed.”

“Ha! Yes, very,” Inigo says, turning away from the door to look at Xander again. “If I were in her position, I would die.”

“Surely it isn’t that bad,” Xander says.

“I suppose it would be nice, though, the thought of getting married.” Inigo sighs. “I daydreamed about it a lot when I was younger.”

Xander hums. He takes Inigo’s other hand, and runs his thumb over his knuckles. “What were you about to tell me, earlier?”

“Well,” Inigo says, ducking his head down. “I am, officially, not Siegbert’s teacher anymore.”

“I think that you’ll always be his teacher. In his heart, at least,” Xander says. “You’ve made quite an impact on him, you know.”

Inigo lifts his eyes to meet his. “That’s sweet.”

“So, ah…” Xander says. Inigo’s face is close. When did he get closer? “What—what now?”

“Hm?” Inigo’s voice is soft, like a dream; his gaze softer still.

“Well,” Xander says. He opens his mouth to continue, then closes it again. What does he say? He can’t get things straight in his head. There’s nothing but Inigo standing in front of him right now.

“ _Well_ ,” Inigo continues for him. “I like you, and you like me too, so…” He trails off, tilting his head and lifting his brows.

Xander still doesn’t know. “So…?”

Inigo heaves a sigh—though it’s more like halfway between a sigh and a laugh, really. “Oh, just kiss me already!”

Oh. “Oh,” says Xander.

Everything makes sense, then; it’s not complicated anymore, bending down to meet Inigo’s lips halfway. It’s simple and quiet; grounding, even. There’s no grand orchestral music in the background, there’s no flying off on cloud nine—he’s here with his feet planted on earth and Inigo’s warm hands on his face and it’s all real.

Sometimes the universe is kind and grants you your silly little wishes.

                                                              

When they part, Inigo is wearing the biggest grin Xander’s ever seen. “I’ve been waiting to do that.”

“Well, no more waiting,” Xander says.

Inigo laughs, swinging their arms. “Hey,” he says. “We should get back before the kids start to worry.”

“Yes. All right,” Xander says. Inigo moves to leave, but Xander holds him by the arm. “Wait.”

“Yeah?”

Xander puts on a hopeful smile. “One last kiss before we go?”

Inigo laughs again, the wonderful, ringing sound. Xander wonders if he’ll ever be so lucky again to get a chance to be with someone like him, if he’ll be lucky enough to have Inigo’s laughs and his smiles in his life—in his morning and afternoons and evenings, anytime and all the time.

Inigo steps forward, and tugs on Xander’s tie, pulling him closer. “As you wish.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a couple of Things To Say, but I suppose it's best if I save it for the Final Final Chapter, the epilogue. Which I promise will be out by Christmas, at least. Probably. Hopefully. If it's January 1st, 2017 and the epilogue isn't out yet I give everyone my full permission to punch me in the face.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Five years later.

Xander finishes off his tie and smoothes out his suit, making sure that everything is neat and orderly. Tonight is his and Inigo’s anniversary, so Xander has to make sure that everything goes right.

“Geez, you’re going all out, aren’t you?” Inigo says, coming out of their bathroom. He’s wearing something that definitely makes him look more approachable than Xander, complete with a teasing smile— _you’re never fully dressed without a smile_ , Inigo always tells him.

“Dressing up shows that you respect the performers,” Xander says. “Besides, I think it’s a nice tie.” And it is, a warm maroon (almost brown, really) made of good quality, and a gift from Olivia. Inigo says it brings his eyes out.

“I didn’t say it wasn’t nice,” Inigo says,. “I am so excited that you finally get to see this show. Aren’t you excited?! I’m so excited!”

“I think you’re more excited about the fact that you’re going to be seeing it for the second time,” Xander says with a smile. He puts his arm around Inigo’s shoulders, and they start heading downstairs. “Still, I admit that it will be nice to actually see how the musical is played out, after having you force me to listen to the cast recording again and again for the entirety of our relationship.”

“Don’t say it so bitterly, Xander, you _love_ Marth the Musical!” Inigo says, pinching his side. “How could you not; you’ve listened to the entire cast recording a billion times!”

“Yes, I love it so much that I listen to it with you on the way to work, on the way back home, while cooking, while cleaning, brushing my teeth, fixing papers…”

“I catch you humming it sometimes, you know,” Inigo says. “You can’t hide from me!”

Azura’s show had eventually made it to Broadway, and ultimately got a national tour. In the Broadway show Azura was part of the ensemble and also an understudy for one of the bigger roles, but for the tour she was offered a role in the main cast. Currently the show had returned to their city, where it started, and Xander, knowing how much Inigo loves this show to death, had, of course, secured tickets. An affair that was no easy feat, considering how popular the show was. It was messy. Almost a bloodbath.

(Particularly considering that Xander isn’t as rich as he used to be, since he left Nohr Corporation for a simpler job. You do anything for the person you love, as people say.

Especially when that person is your fiancé.)

“Dad! Dad Dad Dad Dad Dad!” Soleil says, the moment they enter the living room. “Sieg’s being a loser again! Make him play with us!”

Soleil is on the floor with Henry playing Twister, which is definitely not a good idea for her grandfather’s back. They both seem to be having fun nonetheless. Siegbert’s on the couch, textbook in hand and notebooks strewn around him.

“What’s going on here?” Inigo says.

“I just want to study in peace,” says Siegbert, sighing, the long-suffering eleven-year old he is.

“Why don’t you go to your room?” Xander asks.

“They won’t let me.” Siegbert’s eyes point to Henry and Soleil.

“Why do you even need to study?” says Soleil. “You’re too smart! You’re always gonna pass, anyway, duh.”

“He’s just sad that he didn’t get his Hogwarts letter so he’s trying to distract himself,” Henry says. He’s in an awfully uncomfortable position on the Twister mat.

Siegbert blushes. “No, I’m not! I’m not a baby!”

Soleil lets out an offended gasp. “Shut up! Liking Harry Potter doesn’t make you a baby!”

Xander crouches down beside Henry. “I think you should stop playing. You might hurt yourself.”

“What, are you saying I’m too old?” Henry says. “Hah! Not this fella. Sieggy, spin!”

Siegbert sighs again, putting his textbook down. He reaches over to flick the spinner. “Right hand blue.”

“Easy peasy lemon squeezy—ack!”

Henry loses his balance, and falls over Soleil. “Argh, Grandpa, no! You’re too heavy! Dad, Papa, help!”

Xander and Inigo help Henry get off Soleil immediately. Olivia pokes her head out of the kitchen. “What in the world is happening out there?” she asks.

“Grandpa sucks at Twister,” Soleil says.

“All right, that’s enough,” says Inigo, helping Henry down onto the couch beside Siegbert. “Grandpa’s in time-out now.”

“No, Grandpa can still play!” Henry insists.

Inigo narrows his eyes. “Grandpa, time- _out_.”

Siegbert scoots closer to Henry. “It’s okay,” he says. “You can study with me if you want.”

“I guess it wouldn’t hurt to brush up on my…” Henry scans Siegbert’s notes. “Pythagorean Theorem? Well, that sounds like something a little more complicated than what a fifth grader should be studying.”

“No, no, they’re not hard! They’re easy. Here, I’ll show you.” Siegbert organizes his notes into his lap. “Also, if I teach you, then I’ll get to review at the same time…”

Xander nudges Soleil. “Maybe it’ll do you some good to join them.”

Soleil sticks her tongue out. “Blegh, no thanks!”

Inigo puts his hands on his hips. “At least help your grandmother out in the kitchen, young lady.”

“Okay! I like helping, anyways,” Soleil says, getting up. “Oh, wait! What time are you guys coming back?”

“After ten,” says Xander. “Which will be past your bedtime, little princess.” He boops her on the nose. Soleil giggles.

“Aw, okay,” Soleil says. “But tomorrow you’ll help me practice again, right? The try-outs are coming up!”

Xander chuckles, and ruffles her hair. “Yes, yes. I promised you, didn’t I?”

Ever since Soleil found out that Xander used to play baseball as a kid, she’s been bugging him to play catch with her and help her aim get better. The softball try-outs are next week. Xander knows she’ll get in.

Olivia comes out of the kitchen again, taking off her dishwashing gloves.. “Are you two leaving already?”

“Yes, we’re ready to go,” Xander says. “Thank you again for agreeing to stay with Siegbert and Soleil while we’re gone. I feel bad about you doing the dishes.”

Olivia smiles. “Oh, don’t worry about that. I was the one who offered! It’s the least I can do after that lovely dinner you and Inigo cooked up,” she says. “Also, Henry and I love it when we get to babysit the kids. They’re adorable! Plus I can get some ballet practice in with Siegbert.”

“Grandma, I’m cuter than Sieggy, right?” Soleil asks.

“It’s not a competition,” says Inigo.

“Girls in school like _me_ more, though,” Soleil grumbles.

“Oh, just you wait, sweetie,” Inigo says. “When puberty comes around Sieg’s going to be just as tall and handsome as his Papa and the both of you will be breaking hearts left and right.”

“What! No way Sieg’s going to be taller than me. I’ve always been taller!”

Inigo sighs. “Oh, honey,” he says to Xander. “She doesn’t realize it yet.”

Olivia laughs. “Well, anyway,” she says. “You two have fun at the theater. That show was so wonderful when Inigo and I watched it way back then—thank you again for that, by the way—“

“Ma’am, I keep telling you to stop thanking me for that—“

“—And I keep telling you to stop calling me ‘ma’am’ and just call me ‘mom’!” Olivia says. Xander wonders if this is what it’s like to get scolded by your actual mother. Of course, he’s never had a mother figure in his life, save for Camilla, but with Olivia in the picture now, Xander’s getting quite used to it.

“Remember,” Inigo says, holding up his left hand and tapping the golden band on his ring finger. “The engagement came with agreements. _Including_ calling my mother ‘mom’.”

“Ah, right. Old habits die hard, I suppose.” Xander turns to Olivia. “I’m sorry, Mom.”

Olivia covered her mouth behind her hand and giggled. “It’s all right, dear,” she says. “Now, you two go off before you’re late to the show! We can’t have that, knowing how _expensive_ those tickets were. And you better not sleep during the show either! Inigo, pinch him whenever you catch him nodding off.”

Inigo salutes her. “Aye-aye!”

Soleil hugs them both. “Bye, you guys! Have fun!”

“Sieggy!” They hear Henry say. “Your parents are leaving, say goodbye!”

Siegbert leaves his books and notes to catch up to Xander and Inigo before they go out the door. “Ah, um,” he says, fidgeting with the hem of his sweater. The boy never did completely come out of his shyness. Xander doesn’t really think that’s a huge problem, not everyone has to be confident, but he just wishes that Siegbert wouldn’t be like that around them, his parents. “Bye, Papa. Mr. Inigo.”

Xander looks at Inigo beside him from the corner of his eye, and notices how Inigo’s face wilts for a split second before he covers it up with a grin. With the both of them being engaged for a little over a year now, Soleil had quickly warmed up to calling Xander “Papa,” but Siegbert… well, he needs some time adjusting.

But Siegbert catches himself, and clutches his hand over his mouth, like he’s embarrassed. “D-Dad! I meant Dad!” he says. “Oh, I’m so sorry…”

Inigo breaks into a light laugh. “Oh, it’s all right, dear.” He opens up his arms. “Come here!”

With a meek smile, Siegbert goes to hug his father. Inigo embraces him tightly, because Inigo gives the best hugs.

“Hey, hey!” says Soleil, rushing to join the hug. “Me too! You can’t leave me out!”

“Oh, what’s this?” says Henry, getting up from his seat. “Hugpalooza! Count me in!”

“What?” says Olivia. “H-hey! Don’t leave me out, I washed the dishes for everybody!”

Inigo holds out a hand to Xander, amidst being smushed by his immediate family. “One little hug won’t wrinkle your suit _that_ badly.”

Xander smiles and takes Inigo’s hand. Being the tallest and most broad-shouldered, he easily wraps his arms around all of them into one huge hug.

                                                             

Just a few years ago, he always looked at this house as cold and lonely, like an empty shell, save only for Siegbert. But now all of that has changed, with Inigo and Soleil moved in and Olivia and Henry coming by as much as they can. It’s pretty much prompted Xander’s side of the family to come for dinner more often, too, because nobody really wants to be left out. (And Forrest, as much as he loves both his cousins, secretly loves playing with Soleil the most. Don’t tell Siegbert.)

Everything’s more than okay.

 

* * *

 

“Do you think we could go backstage?” Inigo asks later, after they’d parked their car. They were walking side by side to the theater, with their elbows linked together.

“Maybe, if we can catch Azura,” Xander replies.

“Oh, we _will_ catch Azura,” Inigo says. “The moment the show ends we are heading straight for the stage door. I wanna be the first one there.”

Xander hums. “Do you think that if I carried you and sprinted outside, we’d get there faster?”

Inigo’s eyes widen and he nods. “Best idea ever, honey, better write that down so we won’t forget,” he says.

Xander chuckles. “Oh, don’t forget that next weekend we have lunch with Leo and Takumi.”

“Right, right, and Takumi said he was going to lend me a book on Japanese dance,” says Inigo. “What about next-next weekend?”

“We have to go check on the flowers and decor again for the reception. Also, the kids are going ice-skating with Elise and Sakura.”

“Next-next-next weekend?”

Xander smiles. He knows where this is headed. “Siegbert’s ballet recital with the rest of your mom’s class.”

“And the weekend after that?”

They stop at the pedestrian signal, waiting for the light to turn green. “Hm,” Xander says. Inigo is smiling at him. “Why, I do believe that would be our wedding.”

Inigo laughs, and laces their hands together. “Well, I’m looking forward to that.”

Xander bends down to peck Inigo on the lips. Inigo kisses him back, moving closer, and Xander can feel his smile through the kiss.

“Oh, it’s green now,” Inigo says when they part, and he’s about to move to cross the street—“… aaand it’s red again.”

A single laugh comes out of Xander’s throat. He brings Inigo’s hands to his lips and kisses his ring. “Well, we just have to wait.”

Inigo smiles at him again, and tightens his fingers around Xander’s. “I don’t mind.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Diyos ko this is finally finished. Now please go listen to [this song](https://soundcloud.com/ourselvestheelves/i-wouldnt-mind). (Actually, I have an entire playlist... [here](http://suan.fm/mix/BypUwAD), if anyone is interested.)
> 
> Thank you so, so much to everyone who's read this silly little fic, especially the ones who have been here since the beginning. I can't express how grateful I am for everyone who kudos'd, commented, or even bothered to click on this haha. Also a special thanks to my friend [@dorkpatroller](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Lilmissprine/pseuds/DorkPatroller), who beta-read the last few chapters and always supported me huhu you are a blessing. I never thought that I would actually finish a long fic like this one, considering that I'm pretty new to writing, but hey! I finished it!
> 
> Also, a reminder that I have another fic where I'll be posting oneshots and stuff set in this universe, over [ here](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8148740/chapters/18675041) :-)
> 
> Happy holidays!


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